


A Requiem for Darkness

by alpaca_punch, MissAdventurous



Series: Umbral Shade [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Ableist Language, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Blind Ignis Scientia, Canon Disabled Character, Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M, Manipulative Ardyn Izunia, Multi, Pre-Relationship, Vampire AU, Vampire Ardyn Izunia, Vampire Noctis Lucis Caelum, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:40:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25187311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alpaca_punch/pseuds/alpaca_punch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissAdventurous/pseuds/MissAdventurous
Summary: Prince Noctis’ life of pillowed luxury has been ensured by the exemplary service of his thrall, Ignis. So long as he avoids sunlight, he’s free to galavant around with histotally-normal-boringhuman friend, Prompto, like any other young person.But with the arrival of their guests from Niflheim, that’s all about to change.
Relationships: Ardyn Izunia/Ignis Scientia, Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Ardyn Izunia, Prompto Argentum/Ardyn Izunia/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Ignis Scientia, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum/Ignis Scientia, eventual - Relationship
Series: Umbral Shade [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1824619
Comments: 3
Kudos: 27





	1. A Night to Remember

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick explanation of how vampires are going to function in this fic:
> 
> 1\. If a human feeds from a vampire and is put under a compulsion, they’ll become that vampire’s thrall. 
> 
> 2\. If a human is drained and then drinks the vampire’s blood, they’ll transform into a vampire.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don’t consider this to be a dark!fic but it isn’t necessarily a happy one either.  
> I’ll update tags as chapters go up so please keep an eye on them.

“How _quaint_ ,” A voice spoke to Ignis’ side. Ignis peeled his eyes off the selection of napkins—Noctis’ duty technically, but had been delegated to him at the very last moment when it became clear Noctis had no interest in planning for the arrival of their Niflheim guests. 

Ignis gave the man a once-over glance-- His clothing looked ill fitting and long out of style. His demeanor seemed purposefully diminutive and lacked the regality of visiting vampiric nobility. If not for the clothes and pallid skin, Ignis would have taken him for some human who had wandered haplessly into the castle unaware of the party planned for the following night. 

“Something you require?” Ignis knew his tone did little to hide he checked out of obligation and not genuine concern. 

“Oh, yes,” The man’s lips curled downward, “I fear I am terribly lost,” there was a pregnant pause and a casual flick of a wrist, “I’m a messenger, due to speak with your Lord.” 

Ignis bristled: _And who exactly do you suppose my lord is, stranger?_ Rather than speak those words, Ignis pointedly looked over their surroundings: the tables and chairs being set up by staff: “Yet you started on the roof.”

The man cocked his head to the side, a little smile curling up on his mouth, “Merely searching for a guide who could point me in the right direction.” The man looked much like a pleased housecat batting around a stuffed mouse; a hunter grown fat on milk.

An exhale escaped through Ignis’ nose, nostrils flaring out, “The throne room is on the fourth floor, you should be able to locate it with little trouble.” Ignis took a step backward, “However, I need to get back to work.”

“Ah, of course,” The man agreed with a dip of his head that sent mauve hair falling across his face, “The son of your liege’s soiree is but a night away.” 

Ignis’ upper lip twitched in displeasure, and this time he couldn’t help the correction: “I am in service to the Prince.” 

The man let out an audible gasp. His voice pitched up shrilly for a moment, “Oh dear, forgive me the presumption,” His lip curled upward and the feigned good humor died on his face. 

Ignis nodded tartly in dismissal. The stranger twisted away with a swish of old, ugly brocade. Ignis watched him from his peripheral to make sure he left. Instead, the stranger chose to linger. 

Ignis rubbed his temples: Back to eggshell brocade or embroidered ivory regardless, Ignis looked down— _damned napkins._

The table’s legs gently scratched against the concrete— _almost like a mouse trying to scurry out of sight_. Ignis heard a strange rustling underneath one of the nearby tablecloths. He felt a growing headache creeping up his temples. 

To make matters worse, his guest still hadn’t left, and his eyes were focused on the same table. Ignis disrupted his attention with a terse: “Best not to leave the King waiting.”

“Of course,” The man’s voice grew lower, indulgent; as though _he_ was doing Ignis some tremendous favor. “Alas, then I must be on my way.”

The man sauntered over to the small overhang, standing next to the only elevator that reached the roof. Before he left, elevator giving a little ping, he shot one last glance at the suspicious table and then Ignis. With the visitor dealt with, Ignis turned his attention to the table. 

“Prompto,” Ignis said, hand rubbing at the furrow between his brows, “You shouldn’t be here.”

Prompto’s bushy, blond hair poked out from under the table as he crept out, “Sorry,” He bounced up on the balls of his feet and dusted off the creased, well-worn knees of his pants.

“How long were you there?” The headache that had been only starting now pounding on his head in earnest. 

“Only a bit,” Prompto admitted before he hopped up onto the table, legs swinging out. He stared down at his pointed toes and _tried_ to sound discreet, “Weird guy.”

“Indeed,” Ignis agreed, finally selecting a suitable looking napkin from the pile. “I didn’t hear you arrive.” He set the rejects aside and turned his full attention to Prompto. 

“Took the stairs,” Prompto announced, holding up two fingers and walking them across the edge of the table. 

“Was Noct expecting you?” 

“Yeah?” Prompto’s lower lip pulled into his mouth, teeth nibbling. Ignis had half a mind to tell him to stop, if he busted his lip open it'd do no one any favors. Perhaps he’d just buy him chapstick instead. Prompto’s voice came out in a slow drawl, “He not tell you?” A frown pulled on his mouth and Ignis just managed to sigh.

Before Ignis could respond, almost as though on cue, the man of the hour arrived. His hands shoved deep in the pockets of his pants with his shoulders slouched. “Hey, Prom,” Noctis greeted, mustering up the semblance of a smile on his face. Prompto popped up off the table, dusting off the seat of his pants. 

“Hey, man.”

Ignis held up a palm. “This is hardly the time to be parading your _human_ friend around, Noct,” Ignis’ tone grew accusatory. “If your father or Gladio knew—“

“Relax, Specs,” Noctis groused, shrugging up one of his shoulders: “They _don’t_ know.” Prompto opened his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something before he pinched his lips shut. 

“This is not safe.” Ignis tone softened as he tried to cut off any room for further discussion on the matter, “It is irresponsible.” He would've preferred not to have this argument in front of Prompto. He hoped Noct agreed.

“I expected this lecture from Gladio, not you,” Noctis said, crossed his arms across his chest and narrowed his eyes. _And Noct had never exactly been in the habit of making anything easy, so really, why would he expect him to start now._ “You my dad now, Specs?” 

Prompto turned his back to them, focusing on smudging his toe against a mark on the concrete. 

Ignis rubbed a hand against his aching forehead. He let out a sigh— By the six there was so much to get in order for the party and Noct wanted to galavant around with his friend— no matter what could befall that aforementioned friend with strange vampires milling about the citadel. 

“I’ll be fine, Iggy,” Prompto offered up finally, still unable to meet either of their eyes. “I’ll be long gone by tomorrow.”

“Or he could come to the party,” Noctis shoot a petulant glance up through his dark bangs: “It’s my party, right?” 

“Noct.” Ignis tried to think of how to politely point out that Noct would not want his friend to get eaten by one of their houseguests. 

“We’re having humans at it, anyway,” Noctis continued. He gestured to Prompto with a thumb over his shoulder, “And, you can keep an eye on him.” For a moment, Ignis’ headache abated and his thoughts floated aimlessly. He blinked once, Noctis’ words barely registering with him. 

Ignis swallowed the rest of his protests, everything he wanted to say dying on the tip of his tongue: “Of course, your highness.”

Prompto let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck, “Uh, are you sure?”

Noctis shrugged again, “It’s going to be boring regardless,” He nudged Prompto’s shoulder, “You might stir things up.”

Prompto playfully batted Noctis’ hand away, giving him a shove, “Cause a political scandal,” Prompto said and finally an actual laugh forced its way out of his mouth. 

Ignis shook his head, rubbing at his temples to fight off the fogginess that had clouded his mind momentarily. “You best be off,” Ignis said with a final sigh, “Before someone else wanders up here and discovers you.” 

“Alright,” Noctis sighed, rolling his eyes as he grabbed Prompto’s arm and pulled him along, “C’mon.”

Prompto twisted to look over his shoulder, “See ya, Iggy,” Prompto gave a tiny little wave before he and Noctis left.

* * *

Ignis gave a sharp tug to one of the heavy curtains that covered the large, sprawling windows of one of the citadel’s many libraries. The dewy soft light of morning spilled into the room and revealed all the nooks and crannies of the library: cracks along the floor, wobbly bookcase shelves, dust bunnies clinging to old rugs. 

“So what is this anyway?” Prompto asked, holding up one of the records Ignis had placed near him, _“How to Talk to Vamps 101?_ ” He sharply blew on said record and sputtered at the wave of dust that exploded around him.

The furrow between Ignis’ brow twitched, “You're a guest at a state event, there are certain expectations you may have to uphold.” Prompto understood that, well, _kind of—_ when he and Noct first started hanging out a lot he'd had a whole training rundown with Cor on what he should watch for to make sure the prince wasn't in danger. No garlic, silver, sunlight, or suspicious people allowed. 

Still that didn't really explain why Ignis had dragged him into a desolate room at the asscrack of dawn when they'd both stayed up all night hanging out with Noct: “Okay?” 

“Such as dancing,” Ignis pointedly placed a record down on the gramophone. The old, crotchety music spilled out and Prompto couldn't stop himself from laughing. “To be blunt, Prompto,” Ignis pulled off his glasses, “It's unlikely you'll be expected to dance or converse with any of the guests.” He rubbed a smudge off the lens with his shirttail.

Prompto shrugged up his shoulders and gestured around them, “So, why the old ass music?”

Ignis held his glasses up toward the light to make sure they were clean before he turned his attention back to Prompto, “These lessons are a precautionary measure.” He settled his glasses back on his nose and held out a hand, “Should anyone ask, you are a member of Noctis’ nightguard. You will be outfitted in one of Cor’s old uniforms.” 

“Cool,” Prompto nodded along and allowed Ignis to pull him into place. His hand settled against Ignis’ as his other was pulled into place on his waist. Ignis felt warm and deceptively solid under his palm. Prompto fought the flush he felt pulling on his face— _gah, the tips of his ears had to be burning red—_ “Yup, super cool, dude.”

Ignis gave him a dour expression-- edges of his mouth turned down but the light highlighted his cheekbones and the swell of his trapezius under the collar of his shirt. _Damn Noct and his extremely good taste in men,_ Prompt thought desperately while he tried to swallow. He ended up sputtering out an awkward cough instead. 

“Move your left foot forward,” Ignis instructed as he drew his right foot backward. Prompto’s fingers clenched the fabric of his dress shirt-- he really hoped his hands weren't going to get all nasty and sweaty. “Slide your right.” 

Not even two steps in and Prompto managed to step right on Ignis’ foot. “Shit!” Prompto lurched backward. He wanted to apologize but stopped when the curtain suddenly _snapped_ shut. The whole rack rattled and the heavy fabric thumped on the floor. 

Ignis pulled away from him and looked toward the window with his eyebrows drawn low. A slow clap sounded from the doorway.

Prompto twisted to see the weird vampire who'd been bugging Ignis early last night. His hair spilled out from underneath his hat in messy, mauve waves and the stubble along his jaw had him looking ruggedly handsome. _Prompto’s mind screeched to a halt when he realized he’d just checked this creepy dude out._ He scratched at his cheek— _just great._

“Do you need something?” Ignis pointedly positioned himself in front of Prompto. Prompto could hear the unspoken question in his voice too: _what’re you doing awake at this time anyway?_

The vampire must have picked up on it as well, “I never could maintain a conventional sleeping schedule.” His voice lilted upward and he looked at them intensely, “I trust that won't be a bother.” His eyes zeroed on Prompto and he felt his skin crawl. _Definitely not at all attractive._ Prompto looked away and pretended he could melt into the floor.

Prompto was right on his way to sputtering, “ _That's fine—_ ”

When Ignis reached back and put a hand briefly on his arm. Under the glint of his glasses his eyes had narrowed pinpoint sharp, “Wandering the citadel alone in daylight is not recommended.”

The vampire’s mouth spilled open into an ‘o’ as his face drew into a mockery of scandalized shock, “It’s not? Well in such a case I had best return to my quarters post haste.” He didn't make any effort to leave however. The back of Prompto’s neck prickled.

“Of course,” Ignis agreed with his eyes steeled, his pupils flicked over to the heavy curtain, “Best to avoid any potential accidents.”

The vampire nodded along and waved his hand in the air, “Speaking of _potential accidents_ ,” He felt out a short, wistful sound as his gaze settled heavily on Prompto, “I heard a rumor on the road that Insomnia’s Prince rather fancied the company of humans.” 

Prompto blinked rapidly and tried to scoot a bit further behind Ignis. He hissed low under his breath, “ _Iggy—_ ” 

Ignis gave a small squeeze to his arm while he continued to stare at their interloper; “I'm not in the habit of engaging in idle gossip.”

 _“Of course,_ ” The man tsked his tongue, “I just hadn't paid them any heed at the time, but, ah,” He popped his lips and allowed himself a condescending smile. He held up his thumbs and pointer fingers in a parody of a frame, “Here we find ourselves.” 

“It seems you have me at a disadvantage— who are you?”

The man pulled his hat from atop his head with a flourish, “Ardyn Izunia, the Chancellor of Niflheim.” He bowed down low but still looked up at them through the curtain of his hair-- like a behemoth readying to strike. 

Prompto watched Ignis’ face blanch before he schooled his expression back to neutrality. “In such a case, Chancellor, surely you have more important matters to concern yourself with.” 

Ardyn’s face shifted back to a facsimile of docility. “Indeed,” Ardyn clapped his hands together, “If you'll both allow me to take my leave,” he said it like they had any real choice in the matter with a slow tip of his head. Prompto wanted to bark out a bitter laugh. Before he'd exited the doorway he looked over his shoulders at them, “Do try to avoid any of those potential accidents, hmm?” He left with his crocheted scarf fluttering out after him.

Prompto sucked in a lungful of air— _hadn't even realized he'd started holding his breath._ “What the hell was that!?” He leaned over and planted his palms against his knees. His head buzzed and he felt like he could keel over at any minute.

Ignis frowned and kept his gaze fixated on the now empty doorway, “I’m not sure.” 

Prompto's stomach plummeted, “Really?! Not business as usual or something?” His voice pitched up embarrassingly high and he cut himself off with a wheeze. 

Ignis shook his head, “I think it would be best if we both avoided the Chancellor tomorrow evening.”

“Scratch out tomorrow evening,” Prompto heaved himself up straight, “Try _forever_.”

In the dimness of the room Prompto could just make out Ignis’ momentary smile when he agreed, “Alright.”

* * *

Prompto looked at himself in the mirror, “You got this, Prom.” He bumped his own fist against his bicep. 

The nightguard uniform didn't fit him quite right-- shoulders and chest too broad while the stomach did fit, but snuggly in comparison. The shade of green-y black brought out the pink of his skin tone— _which left him looking blotchy and red._

Prompto scratched at the side of his neck. _Just great._ “Just another normal night,” Prompto squinted hard at his red-rimmed eyes. _What was he even doing here? Why'd he ever let Noct talk him into this?_

> _No one will care, Prom,” Noct reassured him with an eye roll, “There’ll be other humans,” he gestured half-assly over his shoulder toward a crowd._
> 
> _Prompto looked at them-- their skin certainly looked grey and very much not alive from his vantage point. “Uh, Noct, I think those are vampires.”_
> 
> _Noctis’ eyes squinted-- studying them closer before he just shrugged, “Whatever.”_
> 
> _Prompto bit back a sigh._

He rubbed a clammy palm against his thigh. Prompto twisted on his heel and faced the door-- The borrowed boots pinched his big toe in protest to the movement. “No big deal,” His voice quivered.

Prompto straightened up his shoulders— _imagined the steady poise of Iggy and Gladio—_ and threw the door open. His stomach plummeted even though no one else stood in the hallway.

His fingers bunched up the hem of his shirt; _twisting until he'd worried it'd rip_. Prompto's eyes zeroed forward on the elevator. He smoothed down his shirt and chanted to himself: _It’s gonna go great, Prom. You love vampires. Sort of_. He'd quit paying attention to the rest of his surroundings apparently because his shoulder clipped against a firm arm.

“Oh shit, sorry, dude—” Prompto jumped backward with apologies fresh on his tongue when he noticed him. “ _—Er_ , Chancellor,” he lamely tried to correct while shoving his hands deep into his pockets.

Ardyn’s deep gaze looked him up and down: “So you’re one of the Prince’s Nightguard.” 

Heat colored Prompto's cheeks and he ducked his head, “Yeah?” He hated how his voice lilted up at the end and turned it into a question.

Ardyn hummed under his breath and Prompto shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I wasn't in the uniform before— er, dry cleaning,” Prompto bashed the elevator button and hoped it'd show up to rescue him soon. 

“You certainly look the part, dear boy.”

“Thanks,” Prompto cleared his throat, “I think.” He tucked his hands up under his arms and fought the urge to tap his foot. 

“I must admit a certain amount of surprise,” Ardyn didn’t sound surprised though and he looked awfully cocksure, “It is so very rare for a human to find himself in a position of such accolade, unless of course he is enthralled.”

“Oh, no I’m not—“ Prompto shook his head. He discreetly bumped the elevator button again. _It needed to hurry up._

“A thrall?” Ardyn clicked his tongue, “But you very well could be, if Noctis so desired it—Isn’t that right?”

“Whoa, easy there,” Prompto threw his hands up, “He’s not really like that— _well_ , other than Iggy.”

“Iggy?”

“Ignis,” Prompto repeated he held up his hands in a parody of glasses, “But he’s been with Noct since he was like eight or something?” He shrugged and tucked his arms across his chest. 

_Prompto wondered what it’d been like then— a young, impressionable Ignis forced to babysit a surly fledgling._ Prompto’d always wondered at what age Ignis got involved with procuring Noct meals and if he’d ever minded— Ignis never seemed squeamish nowadays. 

“Times have certainly changed, haven’t they?”

Prompto’s brows pulled together, “Why? Did you guys used to have lots of thralls?”

“In a manner of speaking I suppose we did,” Ardyn’s eyes hooded low and Prompto took a half-step back. “The Prince is something of an anomaly.” He took a step closer, 

Ardyn circled around him and so Prompto twisted to stare at him. “Listen, do you need—”

Before Prompto could say anything else the elevator pinged and the door slid open. Ardyn smiled humorlessly at him, “You best be off.”

“Okay,” Prompto agreed and slid into the elevator, he put a hand in front of the door, “Aren't you coming?”

“Oh no,” Ardyn laughed with a grin that didn't reach his eyes, “I've never been one for frolicking with my fellow vampires.” 

“O-Kay?” Prompto slowly spoke with his eyebrows pinching in close together. “Good night?” The door slid closed before Ardyn had a chance to respond. Prompto breathed out a sigh. 

Up on the roof, he saw the visiting Niflheim vampires decorated in ornate clothing— _he did see some alive looking individuals and that had him feeling a lot better_. 

He instantly plucked up a glass of champagne and pretended to drink it. Surrounded by well-wishers and staff, Noct stood in the middle of the roof. Surprisingly, Prompto didn't see Gladio or Ignis by his side yet. Noctis noticed him and lazily waved him over. 

_Hopefully they'd get here soon, so he wouldn't be stuck here all by himself_ , Prompto took a big swig of his drink.

* * *

Exhausted from the long night and day, coasting on only four hours of sleep, Ignis felt like a deadman walking— _not terribly unlike his vampiric overlords as it were_. His eyes burned and he contemplated if the political snafu would be worth it if he got caught trying to get some sleep in a broom closet.

_So many of the guests were already on the roof—- Ignis needed to double-check Noctis had remembered the notecards for his speech— he needed to check on Prompto and make sure the uniform fit—_

Distracted, he didn't notice someone behind him until sharp fingernails bit into his arms. Ignis let out a noise in protest before being hauled bodily backward. 

Ignis’ back connected with a thump against the wall. He steadied himself with an outstretched hand, lurching forward before something swept up behind him. Then he felt a pressure against his head, so severe his knees trembled. 

“I’ve never tried to compel another’s thrall before,” The voice spoke low against his ear. “How strong do you think _Noct’s_ will is?” The presence felt slimy along the recesses of his mind. 

Ignis stared straight ahead as a pair of eyes slid in front of his face. They were bright, vivid in the darkness. Ignis tried to speak, jaw heavy as though weighted with stones, “Stronger than yours.” 

The man let out a sharp little laugh, “Do you think?” He clucked his tongue once, a thumb pressing against Ignis’ chin. He tipped Ignis’ head up. The contact felt like shards of glass-- burrowing, tunneling deep into the tissues of Ignis’ flesh. “We’ll just have to see, now won’t we?” 

Then the air grew heavy with the metallic stench of blood— the profuseness almost enough to make Ignis queasy. Ignis wanted to open his mouth, to say _anything_ , but it felt as though his mouth had been glued together. 

“—Stronger than I expected,” Perhaps it would have been a compliment if not for the disgust in his voice, “I must admit, I didn’t put much faith in you.”

Ignis only managed to make a gurgling noise, as though he was trying to speak with a tar-coated throat. Then a bare wrist pressed against his face. Ignis twisted to the side, past whatever compulsion tethered him to stillness. Ignis could feel cold blood smearing against his chin. 

“If you will,” The man repeated, almost so though Ignis had a choice. And Ignis became keenly aware of the pounding of his heart, the rushing of blood in his ears. The man’s voice dipped low, insistent: “I haven’t got all day.” 

But then, in a sudden movement, the man disappeared. 

Ignis dropped down to his knees as he wiped his sleeve against his chin. His palm and arm come back covered in sticky, black blood. Ignis took a deep breath past the coldness he could feel in the center of his chest. 

“You okay, Igs?” Gladio asked, eyes narrowed slightly from where he peered down the hallway.

Ignis wiped the blood on his hand against his pant leg-- with any luck it wouldn’t show too terribly on the black fabric before he managed to change his clothes, “Quite, just dizzy,” Ignis got up to his feet.

“You’ve been working too hard,” Gladio noted, concern creeping into his voice. 

Ignis merely gestured dismissively before he changed the subject, “Would you mind keeping an eye on Prompto? There’s something I need to take care of.”

Gladio nodded, “Sure, try to take it easy, Igs.” Gladio looked as though there was more he wanted to say, eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened, but Ignis didn’t give him the chance. 

Ignis smiled, all white teeth. _You know me better than that_. Ignis left, hoping to discreetly slip away to his room so he could change and freshen up.

* * *

The night air felt dewy and fresh on the rooftop. A warm atmosphere made stuffy by their guests and the ill-conceived pretenses they carried with them. Noctis had just finished half-heartedly reciting his speech (written by Ignis) to the polite applause of the crowd. 

“So the welp thinks he can use the crystal afterall,” A voice, nasally and dry, spoke to Ignis’ left. 

Ignis thought to bite his tongue, not to start a scene. It was a few beats before Ignis could no longer help himself: “Noctis was chosen by the Astrals,” Ignis pointed out, arching up a brow in challenge. 

The vampire let out a sharp, short laugh, “Six Gods made obsolete by time,” It took Ignis only a moment to place him as Ravus Nox Flueret. “They hold no power now.” 

Ignis held his thoughts: now was hardly the time to lecture Ravus about how the astrals had gifted King Somnus with immortal life— until, of course, the Founder King had been tragically killed. Yet, his descendants had carried on the legacy. _The only vampire line capable of sireing true heirs._

“It is said the crystal holds the secrets to eternal darkness,” Ignis noted, off-handedly, “Brought about by the Chosen.” 

Ravus snorted, giving a sharp shake of his head, “Fairytales crafted for fledglings not off their sire’s teet.” He gestured dismissively with his good arm: “You should care little about such matters, human.”

Ignis let out a snort, snatching up a flute of champagne from one of the servers. He quickly tipped it back, trying to wash away the _taste_ in his mouth— to hide the disgust he feared would show on his face. 

“Specs,” Noctis called softly. 

“Excuse me,” Ignis said, with barely any attention in Ravus’ direction, as he set the empty glass down. Ignis cut through the crowd and arrived at Noctis’ side in an instant.

Noct gestured to where Prompto stood across from him. Prompto tucked his hands under his armpits and shot a glance over his shoulder at the few vampires who danced a bit too close to him. “Specs,” Noctis repeated, “Can Prompto dance with me?”

Prompto shot a desperate look over to Ignis. He could just imagine him trying to mouth _help._

The side of Ignis’ head throbbed and he blew out a breath. “Lady Lunafreya is here,” he gestured toward where the woman in question mingled with the other guests.

Noctis turned an unimpressed glance onto Ignis. His lip curled up, “So?” He extended a hand out lazily and expectantly toward Prompto.

Prompto shook his head and waved his hands in front of him, “C’mon, man--” 

Noctis fingers closed on his wrist and gave him a tug, “It’s not a big deal.” He turned his eyes onto Ignis, “Is it, Iggy?”

 _Big deal_ didn't come close to describing it, in actuality Ignis considered it to be incredibly short sighted and purposefully ignorant. Ignis shook his head, “Noct.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, he reached out and gave a small shove to Ignis’ shoulder. Noctis’ pupils were dilated like twin huge black holes— _so he'd fed recently and he always got a bit too drunk on the feeling afterward_. “Not a big deal,” he said again while shrugging up a shoulder. 

On the recesses of his mind Ignis could just barely pick up the traces of Noctis’ thoughts— _he'd definitely fed then, for him to be spilling over in such a way—_ he felt the slight irritation prickling under his skin and the sickly sweet smell of other vampires tickling his nose. Ignis exhaled but nodded his assent all the same.

Noctis wasted no time in hauling Prompto out into the crowd. “You're too soft on him.”

Ignis glanced to where Gladio had come to rest by his shoulder. “I know,” Ignis crossed his arms. He looked out to where Regis spoke to another dignitary. Noctis deserved that much from him at least. _The king could be... difficult. Regardless, Ignis didn't think being born as a vampire seemed particularly fair_. He’d overheard him asking Prompto what sunlight felt like once about five years ago.

Gladio jerked his head toward where Noctis had pulled Prompto into the awkward facsimile of a waltz. “The King won't like it.” 

“I know.” Sure enough, Regis had turned to stare down his son with his face pulled into a hard grimace. 

“He's pulled Prom into it,” Gladio muttered under his breath with a sigh. He gave a pat to the side of Ignis’ arm, “I'll deal with it,” Gladio moved past him but Ignis stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Thank you.”

“No problem, Igs,” Gladio smiled at him, “Can't be a babysitter all by yourself.”

* * *

The party had crawled to a standstill— _dawn would be coming soon enough_. Ignis had been focusing on other matters— coordinating with the serving staff and ensuring all the humans willing to be fed from by their guests got compensated— He'd been gone for less than thirty minutes and the instant he stepped foot back on the roof Noctis called him over. 

Noctis craned his head, looking around the party, “You seen Prom recently?” 

“Undoubtedly he is fine,” Ignis attempted to console, purposefully avoiding answering the question. 

“He was right by me,” Noctis’ voice drifted as he frowned deeply. 

“I’ll look for him,” Ignis said, head tipping forward in a curt nod. 

“Gladio,” Noctis turned toward the shield hovering at his back. Ignis locked eyes with Gladio and shook his head. 

“One of us should be with you at all times, Noct,” Gladio said even as he frowned at Ignis. Certainly, the shifter would be the more useful company out of the two of them should anything happen.

“Thank you,” Ignis said before he left in search of the missing human. _Hopefully he'd just grown tired and bored of the festivities and had left._

Ignis couldn't stomach thinking of the alternative.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed!  
> I’ve pre-written the entirety of this fic and will post as I finish editing.


	2. Gift for a Prince

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I plan to try and post updates daily until it’s finished— but we’ll see!
> 
> Thanks again for anyone taking the time to read, I know this premise is kinda niche :)

Prompto’s mouth tasted like dirt. Very metal-y, extra iron-y dirt. He swallowed and smacked his lips to try and fight off the cotton-stickiness. 

He blinked rapidly, looking up at the murky, blue fabric overhead. He tilted his head to the side, noticing the plain coffin in the corner. It took him painfully long to realize that he was in Noctis’ room— _Six, he didn’t remember coming here— sleeping in his bed—_

> _He remembered the voice-- velvet smooth, compelling. The whispers sticky to his ears. “Don’t be afraid, my boy.” But Prompto wasn't afraid, he felt numb, his pulse even and steady. Not skipping a beat as fingers circled around his wrist, pulling his arm up._
> 
> _He remembered the stinging pain in his wrist, radiating all the way up to his shoulder, clear and electric. He looked down and his vision spun dangerously. It took him stupidly long to realize the vampire_ bit _him._
> 
> _Prompto’s mouth trembled, “Hey—” he tried to force out a laugh as though this was just some grand joke they were both in on, “I don’t think—“_
> 
> _A blood-coated smile with too many teeth and razor sharp fangs greeted him: “No, I imagine you don’t think often.” The comment sent Prompto’s mouth snapping shut. “Very good,” The man’s fingers stroked against the two puncture wounds sluggishly bleeding on Prompto’s wrist._
> 
> _Prompto felt woozy and wondered if he’d collapse. He stared at the twin droplets leaking from his arm, pitter-pattering against the floor. He opened his mouth, ready to argue before a wrist pressed against his mouth. Prompto let out a muffled grunt. Gods above, the man’s arm smelled_ so good. 
> 
> _Prompto couldn’t help himself, teeth latching on to the man’s arm. Prompto’s body felt strangely gooey— like a tuft of cotton candy melting on a sidewalk. And the vampire’s saccharine blood tickled his tongue and throat. Ignis never said it tasted so good, and no wonder some thralls ended up as blood addicts._
> 
> _The man’s voice just barely cut through his hazy pleasantness: “Do remember to feed yourself when you wake,” There was a pregnant pause, a coyness seeping into his tone, “Lest you wither away and die.”_

Prompto struggled to sit up, propping himself up on his elbows. Maybe it was a dream, just some awful dream— He slowly held up his hand. There they were: angry, inflamed marks on his wrist glaring at him. Prompto swallowed past the dryness in his throat: so not a dream then. Damn.

“Prompto?” Ignis voice sounded _so close_. Prompto let out an audible yelp, half flinging himself off the bed in shock. “Are you alright?” Even as Ignis asked, he walked close enough to see the wounds on Prompto’s wrist. 

Prompto staggered back on the bed, hand clasping over his wrist, hiding the marks as though that would somehow make Ignis unsee them. “No, I—I think—“ 

“You’re in shock,” Ignis walked to the side of the bed, “It will be alright.”

Prompto’s voice rose up, almost hysterical: “Will it?”

“Of course,” Ignis said, but then Ignis reached out for his arm. And Prompto realized that his long, deft hands were shaking. 

Prompto’s voice wobbled: “I-I’m gonna--” 

“Transform,” Ignis finished, his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, “Indeed.” Ignis peered closer, studying the dilation of his pupils, “It looks as though you are well on your way.” 

“Iggy—“

Ignis’ fingers closed firmly, gently over his shoulder, “Easy, Prompto.” The bed dipped down as Ignis sat next to him, asking: “Do you remember your sire? Was it Noct?” Prompto was nearly hysterical enough not to catch the— the _implication_ : You were fooling around with Noctis, got hot and heavy, there was an accidental slip of fangs and BAM. 

Prompto shook his head side-to-side. “No,” Prompto tried to steady his voice before he said: “Just some dude.” 

“Surely you must remember more than that,” Ignis’ lips were moving slowly, as though he was loathe to let Prompto in on some secret. As though he didn’t believe that it couldn’t have been Noct, because if it wasn't Noct—

“No,” Prompto said again, much more firmly, “It was like I was drunk or something,” he waved a hand near his head, finger twirling in a slow arc: “Or like delusional., maybe?”

Ignis mouth thinned into a terse line, “There is a bond that exists between sire and childe.” 

“Okay...?”

“Such a bond could be exploited,” Ignis continued, and Prompto felt sick, because maybe he didn’t really want to be privy to _this_ secret. “It could force you to hurt Noct.”

“Oh,” Prompto’s fingers pulled on a loose string on the hem of his shirt. 

“As such,” Ignis pushed the glasses that had been slipping down his nose up, “It is imperative that we keep your _condition_ secret for the moment. And, you must stay away from Noct and the other vampires.” 

“Will that... Help?” Prompto looked up, eyes wide and owlish. 

Ignis nodded once, “Distance may weaken the influence of your sire, should he attempt to compel you.” 

“But,” Prompto spoke up, fingers tugging on the string in a way that caused a bit of the hem to unravel, “Don’t you, I don’t know, _have_ to tell Noct?” 

Ignis’ eyes narrowed at the implication: “No, I most certainly do not.” Ignis paused for a moment, sighing before his voice softened, “Unless compelled.”

* * *

Their first order of business had been hiding Prompto in Ignis’ room— after Prompto had sent a lame text to Noct explaining away his disappearance.

> _LOL! Sorry, man, food poisoning_ (Prompto made sure to add a green-faced barfing emoji to further sell his story) 

The second had been wrapping a wristband around his wrist to disguise the bite marks should anyone accidentally discover him. _Ignis told him that he'd still look passably human for a while afterward. He didn’t know if that made him feel any better._

The next few hours (or were they _days_ ) felt like torture. Prompto groaned, pressing his aching, burning forehead against the cool pillowcase. His stomach made some awful gurgling sound, he let out another pathetic noise. 

Prompto curled up into a tight ball, Six, it hurt so bad. His skin throbbed, as though millions of little fire ants ate away at him from the inside. 

The back of a cool hand touched his forehead, “Sit up, Prompto,” he was commanded. Even still, Prompto couldn’t find the willpower to move. He moaned and crunched up tighter. Ignis’ fingers curled around Prompto’s shoulders. “Up,” Ignis instructed again as he shepherded Prompto up into a sitting position. 

“M’ face,” Prompto’s words slurred together as he gestured in the general vicinity of his face. 

There was a glint of silver in Ignis’ hand: Prompto squinted his blurry eyes and tipped his head to the side, trying not to keel over as the object shifted in and out of focus. It took him until Ignis cut the blade down his own wrist to realize he held a paring knife. “Here,” Ignis extended his arm toward him. 

A horizontal line of blood dribbled down his wrist. Prompto’s mouth flooded with saliva— he let out a cough in surprise, slamming hand over his mouth before he accidently sputtered out spit onto Ignis. _ugh, spittle, talk about gross_.“But Noct—” 

“Is still my master,” Ignis finished, “And I am one of his thralls ever still.” 

“But I thought you didn’t—”

Ignis’ lips curled up in a wry little smile that showed off his white teeth: “No, I do not care for this particular exercise.” His lips twitched into something resembling a grimace, “But circumstances as they are, we have little choice.” 

Prompto’s nose twitched, the heady scent of Ignis’ blood tickling the inside of his nostrils. Prompto scooted closer, one of his hands latching onto Ignis’ arm before he could help it. “Iggy,” Prompto all but moaned, inhaling deeply as he pressed his face close to Ignis’ arm. 

“I already gave you permission,” Ignis said, sounding awfully haughty.

Prompto, pupils blown wide, pressed the flat of his tongue against the sluggishly bleeding wound. Prompto stifled a groan against Ignis’ wrist, desperately sucking the blood into his mouth. Prompto nearly lost control of himself then, mouth throbbing and heavy with the taste of iron.

Prompto’s fingers tightened on Ignis, nails digging in. Ignis let out a grunt in warning before Prompto relented, forcing himself to let go. Prompto’s hands latched onto the blanket instead, twisting up the fabric. Then his senses all narrowed to tangy blood and coarse fabric. 

Prompto only came back to himself when Ignis’ hand closed on his shoulder. Prompto thought about protesting before he was shoved down, Prompto’s shoulder blade connected with the mattress with a soft thump.

“You’re something of a glutton,” Ignis pointed out, wrapping a strip of white gauze around his wrist. Which left Prompto wondering: _when did he get that?_ But, Prompto could only groan, stomach heavy and full. 

Prompto smiled dreamily, a pleasant buzzing in his head: “M’kay.”

* * *

Prompto’s only warning was a _tickling_ at the edge of his mind. He’d been asleep, still groggy with a full stomach. Ignis sat in the chair next to him— looking over itineraries, or something. Prompto didn’t really understand what Ignis’ job duties were.

“We need to tell Noct,” Ignis rubbed at the corner of his eyes. _They were bloodshot and bag-rimmed._

Prompto hated how small his voice sounded, “Do we?” 

Ignis nodded, “Perhaps we can move you to a safe house temporarily. Gladio or I could be spared to accompany you—” 

But then the door blew open, almost like a gentle breeze pushed it open. But the door had been locked— Prompto didn’t even have time to really freak out before the man— _just some dude_ , Prompto realized— casually strolled inside. 

But he wasn't _just some guy_ , he'd never been and horror dawned on Prompto— _how hadn't he remembered it being him?_

“I did _so_ hope the young master would discover what terrible fate had befallen his dear friend,” Ardyn waved a hand, “But alas.” Ignis’ papers fluttered to the floor as he stood up quickly. 

Ignis reached into the drawer of the bedside table and kept his hand next to his thigh— Prompto made out the glint of metal. “You,” Ignis greeted coolly, stepping in front of where Prompto was still laying in bed. 

“Things as they are,” The man continued with a graceful bow of his head, “I had expected you both to recall my name at the very least.” 

_“Chancellor,”_ Ignis’ voice grew firm, “You have no right to enter my rooms.”

“No right?” Ardyn let out a bark of laughter, so fake that it grated on Prompto’s ears. Ardyn craned his head to the side and looked to where Prompto tried to groggily sit up. 

Ignis took a step in front of him again, baring his teeth in a snarl.

Ardyn’s voice dipped down wistfully, “I do believe I could play him like a puppet on a string,” His voice rose back up gleefully as he gestured to himself, “After all, I am his sire.” 

“What’s your deal, dude?” Prompto propped himself up on his elbows and hated how desperate his voice sounded. 

Ardyn let out a gasp, in a parody of defensiveness, _“My deal?_ I am merely concerned about the fate of my newly turned childe.” 

“I will not ask you to leave again,” Ignis held up the paring knife defensively. 

Ardyn laughed, dryly, voice growing crueler: “Do keep in mind that I am a vampire, boy,” Ardyn smiled, slowly and meanly, “As such, death is not such a permanent fixture for me.” 

Ignis threw himself forward. The knife dug into Ardyn’s chest only centimeters away from his heart. Ardyn’s lips spread into a slow, lazy smile. 

When Ignis pulled on the knife Ardyn’s fingers closed over his wrist like a vice. Ignis let out a grunt at the sudden pain. From Ardyn's chest the wound bled out a sluggish black.

Ardyn wrenched Ignis’ hand off the blade and he heard it clatter to the ground. Ignis couldn't even twitch his fingers, hand numb from the tight grip. 

Ignis’ hand roughly jerked to the side, bones grinding: “I do so hope you’ll remember you're the one who chose violence,” Ardyn noted as Ignis stifled a cry. Ardyn pushed him down to the ground.

Ignis landed hard, pain shooting up his elbow and arm. He grit his teeth, glasses knocked askew from the force. Before he could get up, Ardyn’s foot slammed into his face.

Ignis’ head knocked backward, a steady trickle of blood dripping out of his nose, glasses cracked as they slid off. Ignis’ eyes went wide as he saw Ardyn’s hand reaching down toward him. 

Prompto, still weak and half-delirious, leapt off the bed. His arms closed around Ardyn’s neck. Before Prompto could get a solid grip, Ardyn flung him off. Prompto wheezed as his stomach smacked into the ground. 

“The man of the hour,” Ardyn’s tone teased while his heel pressed down on Prompto’s back. 

Prompto planted his palms down on the ground in an effort to push himself up, “No.” 

“I did it for him,” Ardyn said, boot digging into Prompto’s back, _“Your Noct._ You, my boy, are only a means to an end.”

“Shut up,” Prompto grit out, struggling again to try and get up to his knees. The toe of Ardyn’s boot twisted against his spine. Prompto let out a yelp in pain.

Ardyn, so leisurely, bent down, more of his weight moving onto his foot. “Still, I suppose company would not be remiss.” 

“Ignore him, Prompto!” Ignis struggled, wiping the blood off his face.

Prompto let out a hysterical noise instead: “I’m not going with you—”

“You have little choice,” Ardyn suddenly straightened back up. His foot withdrawing from Prompto. “Resisting the call of your sire is quite the challenge.” Prompto scrambled up to his feet, movements sloppy from pain. Prompto spun around to face Ardyn, trying to raise his fists up. 

The back of Ardyn’s hand connected with Prompto’s cheek and sent him careening to the ground. Prompto hit the floor hard. He made to get up again on wobbly, bruised limbs.

“Stay down if you will,” Ardyn instructed, and right on cue Prompto fell limp once more. 

Ardyn sauntered toward Ignis, leaning over to wind his fingers through his hair. Ignis let out a short yell as Ardyn forced him up to his feet. Ardyn sidled up behind him. 

“Ah, to return to the sweet golden years of old,” Ardyn wisted, “When thralls were often acquired by force.” His fingernails dug into Ignis’ scalp. 

Ignis grit his teeth. He tried to pull away, only to stop when Ardyn’s fingers pulled roughly on his hair. 

“Do you know what happens to a human enthralled by two vampires?” Ardyn’s voice rumbled against his ear, “Some lose their minds.” a dry laugh sounded against the shell of Ignis’ ear that grew low and bitter, “But, you humans never had much of a mind to begin with.” 

“Ardyn,” Ignis hissed, voice curdled with pain. 

Ardyn’s fingers twisted on his hair, pulling Ignis’ head further back, “Unfortunately, it’s most likely your bond with _Noct_ will be severed.”

“He will notice,” Ignis pointed out, past the pain radiating down his entire body, he craned his neck back. 

Ardyn smiled, one edge of his lip curling up, “Oh, but _Iggy,_ he was barely aware of your bond in the first place.” Ardyn clucked his tongue, voice cooing low: “I fear he may not notice its absence.” 

Ardyn’s finger curled underneath the chain of Ignis’ necklace, giving it a sharp tug as he slid in front of him. Ignis tried not to react to the movement, keeping his head back, chain digging into the back of his neck as he stared down his nose. Tacky blood slid down his face and his scalp stung. 

Ignis steeled himself to speak past the pain, “Then get on with it,” Ignis voice sounded strong even with the metal biting into his throat. 

When their eyes locked, Ignis felt as though he could drown in them. He fell so deep, deep, and deeper still. Ignis shakily inhaled, an insistent pressure throbbing against the back of his eyes, his forehead. He tried to look away and realized that he couldn’t. 

Ardyn lifted up his wrist. Out of the edge of his vision, Ignis could see his fangs lengthening, long and spindle-sharp. Ignis’ adam’s apple bobbed, helplessly watching as Ardyn’s teeth pierced his own flesh, twin droplets of blood spilling free.

“Then by all means,” Ardyn said, roughly tugging Ignis closer: _“Drink.”_

And, Ignis found himself helpless to resist, mouth closing over Ardyn’s wrist. Even as his mind screamed in terror, frustration. As he felt the bond he had shared with Noct shrivelling up-- and for a moment, just a moment, he was completely free. His mind his own, crystal clear like it had never been in recent memory. Truly, he hadn’t really _seen_ his shackles until that instant. Something deep in his stomach ached at the loss of _Noct._

The electric heaviness that left his chest only lasted for a second; all too soon a repressive, aching shroud clamped down on him.Tighter, _tighter_ than it had before. Ignis shuddered, for this new weight-- this power— stole the air from his lungs. Darkness dug into his pores, tearing into his eyelids. 

Ignis coughed past the thick blood that stuck to his throat, some of it dripping down the side of mouth. “Ignis,” Ardyn sounded bored even as Ignis had been rendered a mess. 

But Ignis couldn’t comprehend that, no, all Ignis felt was his name crawling across his skin. He tried to close his eyes, but it burned-- Ignis, Ignis, IGNIS engraving in fire on the underside of his eyelids. So Ignis, like a marionette on its strings, snapped his head up to attention. 

“Call me Your Majesty.”

“Your Majesty,” Ignis heard his own voice speak, gravelly from the blood coating his mouth, before he realized what Ardyn had even requested. 

“Do keep an eye on my childe, would you? I’d so hate for any unfortunate accident to befall him,” Ardyn said with a backward gesture toward where Prompto was still sprawled on the floor. His tone was dismissive, as though Prompto was an afterthought. 

Ignis felt his lips moving in automatic reply: “Yes, Majesty.”

“Now, Ignis,” Ardyn’s hand smoothed down Ignis’ blood-soaked collar, straightened the little skull pendant of his necklace, “There’s something very particular I need you to do...” 

Cold metal pressed into Ignis’ palm and he felt his numb fingers closing over it.

* * *

It was later, past noon, and they were still sequestered in Ignis’ room. Ardyn had left long prior, both of them with little memory of what had occured after their ill-fated fight. 

“There’s something--” Prompto stopped himself from finishing, for fear of sounding insanely stupid. Then he realized he already sounded stupid so he lamely finished: “I wanted... Er, want.”

“Now is hardly the time,” Ignis protested, rubbing the furrow in between his eyes. He’d said before he couldn't remember the words of Ardyn’s orders, but he that he felt them. _He still remembered something small and cold in his hand but couldn’t recall what had happened to it._

Prompto’s teeth worried his lower lip, “If we’re both gonna be his playthings...”

“There has to be a way to break his compulsion.” 

“Iggy!” Prompto forced out, hands reaching out to grab Ignis’, “Just... I think of you as a friend. In case you didn’t, I dunno know, _know_.” 

Ignis stared at him for a moment, unblinking. “I had gathered as much.”

Prompto’s face flushed red, he had to move one of his hands to scratch at his burning cheeks: “Ijustreallysortawascrushingonyou,” Prompto spit out rapidly. 

Ignis’ jaw went slack, eyebrows furrowed: “I had thought you and Noct—”

“What?! No.” Prompto’s expression grew into one of wide-eyed stupefaction. “Nah, man, never,” Prompto awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck, eyes darting over to the side. “I mean, I kinda thought the two of you—”

Ignis’ hand closed on Prompto’s bicep, tugging him closer. Ignis’ lips brushed against his, before Ignis tipped his head to the side, mouth close to Prompto’s ear: “In that case...” 

“Dude, you’re not being compelled or something, are you?”

Ignis’ mouth flashed up in a grin: “No.” 

“Okay, good,” Prompto managed to say as his lips closed over Ignis’. Ignis’ hand closed over Prompto’s hip, hauling him close. Prompto tangled one of his hands up in Ignis’ hair— taking a bit of sick joy in further twisting up the tawny strands. 

Prompto, in his haste, felt one of his fangs scratching against Ignis’ lip. Ignis let out a stifled moan, drawing back in response to the stinging in his mouth. A tiny bead of blood welled up on his lip— Six, Prompto wanted to lean closer and lick it up. But, Ignis beat him to it, dabbing away the blood with a swipe of his thumb. Prompto let out a pained little grunt.

Ignis’ lips spread into one of his tiny grins, showing off his white teeth and the points of his canines-- perhaps he found something refreshing about having control even as the end-of-times made a desperate mess of him. But then, Prompto’s mouth opened slightly with his lips wobbling.

Ignis pressed the pad of his thumb against Prompto’s mouth. His finger dragged down, pulling on Prompto’s lower lip. Warm blood smearing in a red trail against the chapped skin of Prompto’s mouth. Prompto could feel it and smell it-- helpless to resist, letting out a pained little groan as he plastered himself closer to Ignis’ front. 

“This is a mistake,” Ignis’ voice came out nonchalant, even as his thumb stroked circles against Prompto’s lip.

“Sure,” Prompto all but babbled, his hands latching onto the collar of Ignis’ shirt. Their mouths pressed together again and Prompto sunk into the contact.

Ignis smelt like sandalwood and bergamot, tasted like lemon zest and the tang of blood still clung to his mouth. Prompto moaned into his mouth and tried not to feel _scared or helpless—_ for now he could just feel the thump of Ignis’ heart and feel _alive_. 

They tumbled down onto the bed together. Heat pooled low in Prompto's gut when Ignis’ thigh slotted between his parted legs. His dying heartbeat quickened to throb in his veins. 

Fingers pulled on the zip of his pants and Prompto groaned at the feeling of warm fingertips stroking along the bare expanse of his stomach. His hips trembled and his skin broke out into goosebumps 

Prompto's leg hooked up over Ignis’ waist and tugged him tightly against him. His hands haphazardly rucked Ignis’ pants down past the firm swell of his ass. Ignis felt like a warm and solid weight above him. 

Ignis collapsed down onto his side and Prompto twisted to follow— pressing himself back so Ignis’ chin rested on his shoulder. Ignis’ leg pressed between Prompto's again, arm and shoulders raising up to bracket around him. _He felt safe and Prompto fought off the giddy laugh bubbling up his throat_.

Prompto let out a grunt when Ignis’ hand slipped inside his opened pants. His palm felt burning hot and it made Prompto’s whole body grow weak. 

Prompto reached backward— fingertips skirting along the exposed skin of Ignis’ hipbone. Prompto scooted his hips forward to give himself room to take Ignis in hand properly too. 

Ignis panted out a groan against the side of Prompto's neck-- his hand pumping in a way that had Prompto stuttering out a sharp breath. He tried to match him, moving his own hand faster— _he assumed he'd done okay when Ignis gasped softly against his jaw._

The whole thing ended embarrassingly fast. 

Afterward, Prompto twisted onto his back and watched Ignis sit up. He fished his spare pair of glasses off the bedside table and smoothed his hair off his forehead— _he looked rumpled and soft and Prompto wanted to hug him._

“Can we tell Noct?” Prompto sucked his lower lip into his mouth, “About Ardyn?” 

Ignis frowned, “He has compelled one of both of us to do things we cannot remember.” 

Prompto's voice dipped down softly, “Yeah.” The hard-set to Ignis’ eyes made his stomach curdle with worry. 

Ignis stood up and straightened his clothes, “We should leave the Citadel.”

“What do you—” Prompto lurched upright, “What about Noct?”

“He will be safer without either of us around,” Ignis nodded to himself, “I’ll leave a note for Gladio-- hopefully the Chancellor has overlooked him.” _Overlooking the big, behemoth bodyguard seemed unlikely—_ but Prompto kept that to himself, hopefully Ardyn had. _Prompto felt like an idiot: he’d basically handed himself and Ignis over to him on a glistening, silver platter._

“Iggy.”

“It's still daylight, which gives us some time. You're a fledgling, Prompto, so you'll be a bit more resistant to daylight than an older vampire,” Ignis pulled a leather duffle bag out from under the bed. He went to his closet and pulled down clothing. He handed a weather-worn dark jacket to Prompto, “We’ll dress you in many layers.” 

Prompto held the heavy fabric to his chest, “Where will we go?” 

Ignis smiled although the expression looked forced, “The coast perhaps,” he fidgeted with his glasses, “Do you have any preference?”

Prompto shook his head, looking down at the cloak when he decided: “Somewhere warm.” He cleared his throat, “Far away.”

Before they left, Ignis slid an envelope under Gladio’s door. Cradled inside sat thick parchment with Ignis’ slanted handwriting:

> _Gladio,_
> 
> _It's of extreme importance that you escort Noctis out of the Capitol. Do not tell anyone but the King where you are going._
> 
> _Before you leave, tell your father that one of Niflheim’s dignitaries has expressed an interest in harming Noct— I trust the nightguard will root them out after you have departed the Citadel. I apologize for being unable to tell you who, Gladio, but I worry you would feel obligated to confront them._
> 
> _Just the same, I cannot tell you what has happened to drive me to this point. Trust no one but yourselves and stay safe._
> 
> _I'm with Prompto and will look after him._
> 
> _Please give Noct my best._
> 
> _Sincerely yours,_  
>  _Ignis_


	3. Change in Perspective

Noctis clutched the paper in his hands. The black words distorted into a murky puddle when an angry tear splashed down onto the note. He watched the black blots stream down across the page— the edges of his eyes burned from the stilted tears and his unwillingness to blink.

He crumpled the paper up in his hand, “We have to find them.” 

“Noct,” Gladio shoved his backpack toward him, “We don't have time to argue.” His hand closed on Noct’s arm and pulled him out of the room. Noct pulled his baseball cap down low on his head. 

Sitting in the back of the Regalia, with _Gladio_ driving, felt like a betrayal. He closed his eyes and tried to dip back into his mind— to a quiet, dark place where sometimes he could just barely feel Ignis’ presence. 

“I can't feel him.”

Gladio looked over his shoulder as he backed the car out of the parking space, “What?”

“Ignis.” He picked at the dry cuticle of his nail, “He's my thrall, so why can't I feel him?” He felt another hot spike of frustration burn through his body. 

Gladio’s mouth curled down as he turned back to the road. _Not even willing to look at him._

Noctis settled for glaring at the back of his head, “You know something.”

“I don't want to do this right now, Noct.” 

“What aren't you telling me?” Noctis slammed his fist into the center console. “Prompto is gone! Ignis too! Do you even care?!”

Gladio slammed on the brakes not even half a mile away from the citadel. He twisted in his seat to glare at Noct, “Of course I do!” His mouth drew into a hard line, “Did you ever consider he's not your thrall anymore?” 

“That's not possible—“

“Sure it is, if he ran into a stronger vampire,” Gladio’s eyebrows drew down low, “ _Maybe_ that vampire even took a liking to the cute blonde human _you_ decided to parade around.” 

“Shut up!” Noctis’ throat ached, “If a vampire stole them—”

“You can't steal _people,_ Noctis!” Gladio’s voice sounded like a cannon in the cramped space of the car. He looked back to the road and started driving once more.

Noctis slumped down low and stared out the car’s heavily tinted windows at the flickering lights of Insomnia at night. “I want them back, Gladio.”

“Yeah, well,” All the fight drained from Gladio’s shoulders, “So do I.”

* * *

Prompto ran his fingers through thick, downy feathers. The chocobo’s forehead nudged against his shoulder. “Okay, I get it!” Prompto laughed and continued to pet the large bird. _She didn't seem to care that his heart no longer beat._

“I believe she likes you,” Ignis took a seat at a nearby table with a plastic container of cup noodles cradled in his hands. The outpost smelt like mulch and rotted wood, but the savory smell of broth cut through that. Prompto's stomach grumbled.

Prompto tickled the side of her neck and was rewarded with a loud chirp. “I like her too.” He gave her one last pat before turning to Ignis. Ignis held up the newspaper he'd bought from the stand— _Insomnia Daily’s_ bright red banner scrolled across the top. Prompto fidgeted with his hands, “Any news?”

Ignis shook his head, “Nothing.” Prompto couldn't help the dejected look that his face fell into when he collapsed down into the chair across from Ignis. “With any luck Noctis has disappeared from the capitol unnoticed.”

“Do you really think so?”

“I do.” 

Prompto stared up at the night sky— out in the country he could see so many more stars than he'd ever seen in Insomnia. “What about Ardyn, do you—” He stopped when he saw Ignis’ mouth pull into a terse line. He knew Ignis had felt it too— _the crawling presence gnawing at the back corners of his mind._

Ignis stood up and gestured to where their car sat— he'd picked it up for cheap at Hammerhead, paying in cash— turned out everyone wanted to do them a solid if they claimed to be fleeing from the vampires in Insomnia. _Damn vamps, huh?_ The corners of Prompto’s eyes burned and he rubbed the back of his hand across his face. He blinked past watery spots and looked back to the car: guess it really didn’t matter if the transmission rattled whenever Ignis shifted into gear. “We should leave soon.” 

Prompto followed him up, “Yeah, Okay.”

* * *

Noctis kicked up a pile of dust and watched it explode into a cloud of brown. He looked up to the sky and wondered where Iggy and Prompto were— _probably sleeping this late at night_. Humans normally didn't like staying up late into the night; Ignis only managed by developing an exceptional caffeine addiction. 

The garish shark memorabilia surrounding him felt like a cold comfort, and the fluorescent lights only served to make his eyes sting. He leaned up against the Regalia and exhaled.

“It's quite fine an evening for a stroll, isn't it?” A voice spoke to his left.

Noctis shot an unimpressed look over his shoulder, “I guess.” The man held an umbrella up over his head-- although the sky looked cloudless— and wore a thick coat even in the muggy heat. _Humans could be so bizarre._

“I have to wonder what happened to make a young man such as yourself look so frightfully adrift?” 

Noctis rolled his eyes, “It’s not your business.” The man's top lip _almost_ pulled up into a sneer. He saved the expression at the last moment and his mouth forced its way into a demure smile.

He clicked his tongue, “Ah yes, to be young and secretive once more.” 

“Whatever you say, man,” Noctis wrinkled up his nose and brushed past him in search of Gladio. _To hell with this waiting by the car bullshit._

* * *

Ignis’ mouth tasted like stale, day-old coffee and still felt chewy from too many meals consisting solely of cup noodles. He'd built up a veritable fort of towels along the motel’s windows in an effort to keep the sunlight out. Going all the way out to Lestallum hadn't exactly been the plan— but Prompto’d complained about a headache and Ignis didn't know of any other hotels close by. So off to Lestallum they'd went.

Prompto laid in bed with his limbs thrown out and a small line of drool running down the corner of his mouth. _Undeniably handsome even so_ , he thought with a small smile. Ignis brushed his fingers along his forehead and recoiled at how _warm_ he felt.

He pressed the back of his hand against his cheek: _clammy and hot_. Ignis sunk down to his knees at the edge of the bed. _How could he be expected to take care of a baby vampire anyway?_

“I must admit, Ignis, I didn't expect you'd flee so very far from your liege.” Ignis jerked backward, twisting around in search of the voice.

It took him embarrassingly long to realize the voice had spoken inside his head. Ignis sneered toward the doorway, “You gave us little choice.”

Ardyn hummed and it rattled inside Ignis’ mind. “It's a small wonder you haven't accidentally killed my childe yet— one opened doorway at the wrong time and—“ Hands clapped together, _“Poof.”_

“Be quiet—”

“Turn on the TV, Ignis.” Ignis frowned but did as he'd been instructed. He muted the volume to avoid waking Prompto. When he read the words cold claws gripped into his shoulder. _Insomnia attacked, the Citadel fallen._

“What happened?” The words fell from Ignis’ numb lips.

“True tragedy— poor _Reggie_ misplaced the ring of Lucis, which left the entirety of the city defenseless.” Ignis’ stomach dropped. “He's dead, by the way.” 

“Your doing?” 

“In a manner of speaking,” a breeze brushed past his neck and Ignis could imagine it being Ardyn’s breath. Goosebumps broke out across his skin. “Check the pocket of your bag.”

Ignis reached under the bed only to realize Prompto had woken and knelt next to him— he'd already hauled out the duffle bag, fishing around in deep pockets.

“Can you hear him too, Prompto?”

Prompto nodded, his face blanched a sickly shade of green when out of the very front pocket he pulled out a ring. “Iggy—” His voice broke off into a croak. He held out his hand and indisputably the Ring of Lucis winked up at them. 

“Impossible,” Ignis took the ring from him— even in his hand it felt heavy, the weight of it pulling on his shoulder. _Small and cold._

“If we had it—“ Prompto’s voice halted and his chest heaved, “Is Noct—”

“Oh, the crown prince is fine,” Ardyn’s voice chirped from inside their minds, “Afterall, the two of you were thoughtful enough to send him galavanting out of the city for me.” 

Prompto clapped a hand over his mouth and shook his head, “No, no, we didn't—”

“Calm down, Prompto,” Ignis held up his hands. “This may not be real, he could just be toying with us.” He tucked the ring into the back pocket of his jeans and got to his feet. 

Prompto pinched his arm, “It feels pretty real.” 

“Real or not, I fear I may have run out of uses for your quaint little twosome— after all, what good is a starving vampire and a thrall too stupid to notice?” 

“Shut up! _Shut up_!” Prompto screamed at the empty expanse of the room. He collapsed forward and pounded a closed fist against the ground. 

Ignis felt his cold laughter and the slime of his presence dissolving. He sunk back down to the floor, putting his arms around Prompto’s wracking shoulders. Prompto's voice sounded hollow and broken, “I'm scared shitless, Igs.”

“I know.” 

“What’re we going to do?”

Ignis stroked a hand through his blonde hair and felt the warmth radiating from his forehead again, “I’ll think of something.”

* * *

Ignis sat on the tile floor, back pressed to the door, arms folded up on his knees. _Inhale. Exhale._

His nose twitched at the stench of bleach and mildew that clung to the bathroom. His head tipped backward and it tapped against the door with a dull thump. _Focus._

His own mind felt like wading through sewage— the scent of beetroot and decay greeted him. His skin grew sticky with something he couldn't see. He closed his eyes and focused on tracing the connection back to Ardyn.

Like a moth-chewed thread, it threatened to disintegrate in his hold. The deeper he went the worse the smell got. “You need to help Prompto.” 

His voice echoed against the halls of his own mind. No response greeted him. Ignis glared up at the dim lights flickering atop the mirror. “Please.” _How would he ever face Noct again if he let his friend die? How would he even live with himself?_

“I'll do whatever you want.” The words sounded hollow even to Ignis— _for didn't Ardyn already have him wrapped around his finger?_

Ignis stood up and glared at the disheveled reflection that greeted him in the mirror. _I'll take care of this myself._ He went back into the bedroom.

Prompto yawned and sat up in bed. He scratched at the tender skin of his wrist— _the bite marks had yet to fully close and had taken on a swollen, purpled quality._ “You okay, Iggy?”

 _Shouldn't he be asking that?_ With the ugly bags under Prompto's eyes and the cold sweat that clung to his skin. Ignis only managed a close-lipped smile. “How are you feeling?” 

Prompto stretched up his arms, “I’m okay,” But his voice wobbled. 

_He felt like a fool— felt like he’d been trying to sneak a dog scraps of food under the table as opposed to just buying a fucking dog bowl. Now he had the audacity to be surprised when he saw the dog’s ribs pressing against thinning fur._

* * *

“What do you think about Insomnia?” Ignis asked with his lips pressed to the rim of a plastic glass— _cheap booze to take the edge off,_ at least, that’s what Prompto thought.

The man craned forward out of his stall, “Fucking vamps had it coming.”

Another man— dressed in the uniform of the empire— held up his glass in cheers: “Did it to themselves!” He let out a bellowing laugh and knocked his drink back. He stumbled up to his feet, “Hope they drove a stake through their hearts— including their _little prince_.” 

Ignis’ fingers tightened on the cup: eyes zeroing in on the man as he ambled away. 

Prompto tugged his knit cap down lower— _thankful a cool breeze would occasionally blow through the city’s streets to take the edge off the layers he’d been bundled in._ Ignis smiled— close-lipped and tight— before he set the empty glass down. “Thanks.” 

Walking down the back alleys smelt like garbage and cheese. _A strange beige-y pile that could’ve been vomit or old urine_. Prompto didn’t know which would be worse.

“Free cities, like Lestallum, don’t have the infrastructure Insomnia does,” Ignis said while dodging an empty can that rolled past them. “No volunteers or blood donations centers.”

“You think Noct is okay?” Prompto’s hands clasped together. His thumb stoked along the back of hand, “He’s never really left the city before.”

“Prompto.”

Prompto laughed, “Yeah, I guess he has the big guy with him—” His thumbnail dug into his hand.

Ignis shook his head, “He’s not whose welfare I’m presently concerned about.” 

Prompto laughed again and waved his hand, “I’m fine, not even hungry—“ _The last time he’d fed Ignis had turned paper white_. Prompto’s stomach curdled like spoilt milk at the idea of feeding from him again.

“You’re dying, Prompto.”

Prompto blinked once, slowly. _Maybe that’s why the world had started to grey around the edges, or why his stomach felt ready to rip in two._ “Oh.” He gave a kick to a nearby can and watched it rattle away. 

“I need you to trust me,” Ignis reached out and gripped his shoulders. Prompto forced himself to meet his eye. “Do as I say without asking any questions.”

Prompto shook his head, “Iggy, I’m not sure—“ 

“Please, Prompto.”

Prompto swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Alright.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole fic is a fairly self-indulgent project I worked on mostly for myself, but I hope you’re enjoying too!


	4. Locus of Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated twice in one day (because they’re shorter chapter)— anyway, make sure you read chapter 3 first if you haven’t already.

“I have to go back, Noct!” Gladio’s voice rose up to a fever pitch, “My sister was there—“

“Great,” Noctis tipped his head back and shoved his hands in his pockets, “Then I’ll come with you.”

“For fuck’s sake, Noct!” Gladio slammed a closed fist against the side of the motel wall, “Just stay here, I’ll be back in a few days with Iris.”

“First Ignis and Prompto, now my dad is dead,” Noctis lurched forward. _“What the fuck do I have left to lose if you leave too?”_

Gladio heaved out a sigh. His shoulders slumped downward but he still shook his head, “You can’t go back to Insomnia.”

“I’ll do whatever I want.”

 _“I’m_ not taking you.”

Noctis backed up and bared his teeth in a snarl, _“Fine.”_

* * *

They’d been looking nearly all night for the right person who met their criteria:

> _“It has to be someone bad,” Prompto scratched at the back of his neck, “Or not good?”_
> 
> _Ignis nodded, “That’s a somewhat arbitrary distinction. But we can certainly try.” He steepled his fingers up under his chin and looked so dour._
> 
> _Prompto swallowed past the growing lump in his throat. He hated it when his voice shook: “You’ll help me, right?”_
> 
> _“Of course.”_

The imperial soldier they’d seen earlier in the night stumbled down the alleyway. Finding him again had been pure happenstance— but Prompto breathed out a short sigh of relief. Certainly it’d be easier with someone who’d professed wanting Noct dead.

He looked at Ignis who nodded at him. Prompto breathed out a sigh. _He could do this._

The soldier pressed his forearm to the wall. Even from their distance, Prompto could smell the heavy stench of alcohol on his breath. As they got closer, he could see the disarray of his clothing— rumpled and stained. 

The man mumbled to himself, hiccuping, “Hot piece of ass...” he rubbed a hand across his mouth and belched. He planted his other palm to the wall to steady himself. 

It happened so fast after that.

Ignis crept up behind him and wrapped one strong arm around his throat. Before Prompto could even react he pressed the tip of his knife into his neck. The knife dragged forward and Prompto could hear the sick squelch of flesh parting.

Blood bubbled up from his mouth— _in red, frothy waves—_ and poured from his neck as he stumbled down to his knees. “Prompto!” Ignis called and his hand closed on Prompto’s sleeve— _he hadn’t realized he’d wandered in so close._

Prompto’s nose twitched— the man smelled so warm, like honeyed wine pulsed through his veins. He dropped down to his knees— hands dragging across damaged flesh and framing a wide-eyed gasping face. _He smelt so good._

His mouth closed over the gaping wound and he moaned. His teeth dug through skin and meat— _he could feel wetness dripping down his chin, smearing across his cheeks—_

His fingers knotted up in greasy hair and gave a sharp tug. Then the blood started to cool and left him only holding a dead chunk of meat in his arms. Milky blue eyes looked at him and Prompto lurched backward.

Prompto shook his head and ran a hand across his face— _trying to scratch the crusted blood off—_ “Oh, shit! _Iggy_ , Iggy, I—?!” _He shouldn’t have done this_. Ignis knelt down in front of him.

“Prompto,” Ignis' hands came up to cradle his face. He stroked his thumb along Prompto’s lower lip, “There wasn’t any other option.” Prompto trembled in his hold, cheek sinking into the heavy weight of Ignis’ hands. He reached up, fingers latching on to Ignis’ wrist in an effort to keep him close.

“I—Still, Iggy, I killed him—”

“Well to be precise, _I_ killed him,” Ignis offered up, “You just sped up the process I suppose.” _Not helping!_ and Prompto wondered if Noctis had accidents before— when he’d been little and hadn’t understood his own strength or cravings. 

“But I _ate_ him!” A sob bubbled up from Prompto’s throat. _And he tasted wonderful._ He turned his head to nuzzle against Ignis’ palm— he could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through his skin. 

“And if you hadn’t you would’ve died,” Ignis guided his face up to look at him, “Dying isn’t an option— not if we’re going to help Noctis.”

Prompto stifled back a sniffle, rubbed the back of his hand across his face. He nodded. “You’re right.” 

“I apologize, Prompto,” Ignis’ hand gently stroked along his cheekbone before he withdrew.

Prompto nodded again, he tried to crane around Ignis to look at the body but felt sick at the thought. His eyes fell to his lap. “Do you think he was,” Prompto’s lower lip wobbled, “A bad guy?”

“Dwelling on it won’t change anything,” Ignis clapped a hand to his shoulder before he stood up. “At the very least he was an enemy of Insomnia.” He held a hand down to Prompto. Prompto grabbed onto his wrist and allowed himself to be pulled up— _he looked over at the body and his stomach rumbled._

“Ah! What a momentous occasion indeed.”

Prompto’s hand lurched to grip the sides of his head. His fingers tugged on blonde hairs. “Get out of my head!”

“But this is your first kill, my boy, and certainly that calls for a celebration.”

“No thanks to you,” Ignis bit out and his vitriol seeped out into the silent night air. 

“Do mind your tongue, thrall.” Prompto watched Ignis’ jaw clench shut— teeth grinding together in a hard line of tension. “Lest I pluck it from your throat.” 

Prompto’s nails dug into his temples, “Just stop it!”

“Don’t make a scene— after all I'm only here to wish you good tidings,” Ardyn’s voice rumbled in his mind— _like an oil slick_. “I should have a surprise for the two of you very soon; until then, you’ll keep the ring safe for me, _won’t you_?”

“Leave us alone!” Prompto twisted around to stare at dark bricks and stray pieces of garbage. 

“Be careful what you wish for— you want to see _Noct_ again, don’t you?”

Ignis’ jaw flexed and his hands clenched into fists, “What have you done to him?”

“So accusatory!” Ardyn clicked his tongue at them, “I’ve done nary a thing— though I suppose that _could_ indeed change—”

Prompto’s shoulders slumped as he leaned back against the wall, “What do you want?” He hastily rubbed at the tear that fell down his cheek.

“It’s as I said, dear boy, do keep up,” Ardyn laughed at them and the sound echoed around him. Prompto’s nails dug into the skin of his wrist. “Guard the ring with your silly little lives and sit tight in Lestallum.” 

Ignis shook his head, “No.”

“No?” Ardyn gasped with barely contained glee.

“We aren’t playing your games anymore, Ardyn.”

Ardyn breathed out a condescending sigh, “Oh, you stupid creature, you speak like you have any choice in the matter.” Prompto could just imagine his hair tousling against his cheek: “Allow me to correct that misconception.”

* * *

When Noct left Hammerhead to walk along the dark street he didn’t know what exactly he’d expected: certainly not a car painted a garish shade of mauve slowing down beside him or its owner calling toward him. “Do you need a lift?” At least it hadn’t been another catcall: _hey baby, you look like just like that Prince outta Insomnia_. Noctis’ mouth pulled into a grimace anyway.

Noctis looked at him— _same weird guy from before._ Great. He shrugged up a shoulder, “Alright.” _This would drive Gladio absolutely batshit_. Served him right. 

He hunkered down low in his seat and tried to pretend he rode in the regalia with Ignis at the wheel. “How long were you at Hammerhead?”

“Only a few days,” The man gave a pat to the glovebox, “The old girl required a few repairs.”

Noctis straightened up in his seat, “Listen— you didn’t happen to see a blonde guy, about my age and height, with a taller guy in glasses pass through, did you?”

The man drummed his fingers against the wheel, “Hmm, I suppose I may have.”

“They’re good looking, but I think they would’ve dressed inconspicuously.”

“Ah! Yes,” The man nodded, “Perhaps I did! Indeed— the shorter of the two looked rather sickly if I recall.” 

A hand may as well have squeezed Noct’s chest, “What do you mean?”

The man shrugged up his shoulder, “Oh, I’m sure they’re quite alright— they mentioned heading off to vacation in Cape Caem.” Noctis stared out the window and frowned. The man leaned toward him and asked: “You never said, but where is it you’re looking to go, my boy?”

“Cape Caem,” Noctis decided with a nod of his head, “But you can drop me at a motel before dawn.” 

“Before dawn? Most travelers prefer the roads when the nightbeasts aren’t crawling about.” Noctis had to bit back a response, for the hordes of monsters that prowled after dark paid little attention to vampires; afterall, they too preferred living prey.

“Sunlight bothers my skin.”

“Ah,” The man clucked his tongue, “Well in any case I prefer the company of monsters to that of fellow cars.” Noctis’ nose wrinkled up. “I’d be more than happy to take you for as long as our paths align.”

Noctis rolled his eyes, “Cool.”

* * *

Ignis woke with a throbbing headache— he scrambled to check his watch for the time— _a little past two pm. His mouth tasted like chalk._

 _The motel room smelt rank_ , like sweat with something underlyingly metallic. Ignis followed the smell into the bathroom. In the bathtub sat a woman. 

She would’ve been pretty, looked so normal—Ignis felt his vision wobble and whiten at the edges. _It wasn’t supposed to be like this._

Blood dripped down the sides of the ceramic tube and sightless eyes locked on the ceiling. The baby blue sweater knit of her shirt soaked through with dark splotches. Her head barely held on by a strip of meat. 

Ignis sank down to his knees. His fingers gripped the doorframe in an effort to ground himself. _How had it happened? He couldn’t remember._

Prompto sat up in the bed, swaddled in a blanket with pallid skin, “Iggy, please tell me I didn’t—” Ignis knew he’d seen the carnage in the bathroom too.

“He shouldn’t be able to do this— I’ve never heard of a vampire holding _this_ level of control over his childe,” Ignis wracked a hand through his disheveled hair, “Certainly not at such a long distance as this.” _A particularly powerful thrall maybe— but, he couldn’t do it to another vampire, unless—_ Ignis swallowed past the cotton heaviness in his throat. 

“What’s happening?” Prompto’s voice cracked. “There was so much blood,” His voice broke off into a despondent croak.

Dread plummeted into Ignis’ core and his earlier thought finished unbidden: _Unless the limits on vampiric powers didn’t apply to him at all._ He tried to steel his nerves, for he couldn’t say those things to Prompto. Even so, he couldn’t escape the twisting of his own thoughts: _How old would Ardyn need to be to transcend something like that? To do something like_ this. 

“I remember nothing at all,” Ignis’ fingers dug into wood. As though he’d turned into a blank slate so Ardyn could parade around in his skin. _Wearing him like a suit._

> _Not strictly true, for he remembered Ardyn’s presence looming over him and draped across his shoulders._
> 
> _The words that slithered across his ears: “Perhaps once all this is done we’ll see about making you a vampire too, Ignis. We can all be a happy little family, won’t that be nice?”_
> 
> _At the time Ignis had nodded with glazed eyes— because the words meant nothing to him._

Now the memory made his skin crawl. 

“We gotta leave Iggy—”

“We can’t go anywhere until nightfall,” And until then they’d have a rotting body to keep them company. Ignis frowned, “We are trapped here for the moment.” _Trapped with their puppeteer ready to tug gleefully on strings at any moment._ The sour taste of bile crawled up his throat.

Prompto let out a humorless laugh, “You don’t gotta say it like that, Igs.” 

Ignis crawled into bed beside Prompto and pulled him into an embrace. “I’m sorry.” _For everything. For dragging him out of the city apparently at Ardyn’s behest. For being unable to save either of them now._ He wanted to scream at the feeling of powerlessness that coursed through his body. 

Prompto nodded and his breath brushed against Ignis’ lips, “Me too.” They laid wrapped up in each other’s arms and like this Ignis could almost pretend the world outside stopped at the edge of their joint cocoon.


	5. Together at Last

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you have have given a kudos to this story so far— I really appreciate it.

Traveling with Ardyn felt like pulling teeth. In fact, Two nights in and Noctis already contemplated just walking by himself. Technically with his warp he _could_ skim along treetops. 

Noct tried to assuage himself with a thought: at least they slept in separate rooms during the day. If Noctis had been subjugated to his snoring he would’ve just launched himself outside to burn into a crisp. _Hell, if they could find Prompto he could use his death pyre to roast marshmallows or something_. Noctis had to bit back those thoughts though when a tightness crawled its way up his throat. 

In any case, walking now— even after a full day’s sleep— would be too much effort. Noctis sighed and folded his arms across his chest.

They’d pulled over on the side of the road— Ardyn complaining about the car acting up although Noctis hadn’t noticed anything.

Noctis leaned against the door as Ardyn placed his hands on the hood of the vehicle. He certainly didn’t seem eager to try and figure out what happened.

Noctis’ skin crawled.

“I fear I must apologize for some deception on my part,” Ardyn whisked his hat off his head, “Ardyn Izunia.” 

Noctis twisted around to face him fully, “Who?” The name tickled something in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t quite recall. 

“I was in service to Niflheim until quite recently,” Ardyn shot him an unimpressed stare. Noctis shrugged up a shoulder even as his chest tightened. _Who did this guy think he was anyway?_ “A detail which should be of particular import to _you_ , Prince Noctis.”

Noctis’ upper lip curled back, “Oh yeah?” _Great, some weird ass old man had stalked him._ Noctis would’ve been tempted to balk out a laugh if not for the poor circumstances. He sniffed the air, strained his ears— _no heartbeat_. Shit. How hadn’t he noticed before?

“Indeed,” Ardyn tapped his fingers, “You should keep a better eye on your things.” He dipped his head down conspiratorially as if he was in on some grand scheme that Noctis had completely missed.

“Say that again,” Noctis pushed off the car. He could feel his gums starting to ache and the beds of his nails itching. 

_“Your things_ ,” Ardyn tapped his index finger against his chin, “Unless you didn’t consider the blonde to be yours—“

“What did you just—“

“—I wasn’t _really_ sure, you see. In fact, _Highness_ , you could almost consider it a lucky guess on my part.” Noctis lurched forward, sharpened nails tearing a line through fabric. He vanished from his grasp. _Like he’d melted into shadow._

Noctis jolted backward— eyes straining to find his target. “What did you just say!?”

“I took him.” Cold breath prickled the back of Noctis’ neck, “Both of them— I considered hunting down your behemoth to get myself the _complete set_ but alas—” Noctis spun with fangs bared and hands raised— aiming for a throat, to slice a vulnerable stomach or gouge out a pair of eyes.

A dark expanse of roadway greeted him. Icy cold breath kissed against his earlobe: “ _Boo.”_

Noctis turned back around to see nothing once more, “You think this is a game?” He felt a cold, metallic hilt coming to his hand. The blade cut through the air and embedded itself high in a tree trunk. Noctis warped up to it, fingers closing around the hilt. He swung himself up onto the stuck blade, squatting to look at the roadway below. 

“No,” Noctis twisted to see Ardyn standing atop the hood of his car. He leapt up onto the dashboard— Noctis would’ve thought him too heavy but he moved with a feline grace. “You just don’t pose much of a threat for me, Noct.”

Noctis’ lip curled up to bare his fangs, “Where are they?”

Ardyn threw his head back and laughed. Noctis launched himself off the blade, calling it back to his hand. He swung the sword forward at Ardyn. 

A sick metallic clang greeted his ears. From Ardyn’s hand he held a long, slender sword. “I applaud the effort.” His blade knocked Noctis backward.

Noct scrambled for purchase, sword sinking into the dirt to stop his momentum. Noctis got back to his feet: “Ardyn?!”

“They’re safe,” Ardyn’s sword vanished from his hand into a wisp. He delicately leapt from the vehicle. He ambled forward with the toes of his shoes kicking up a plume of dust. “For the moment.”

“Where?” Noctis lunged forward, blade throwing forward— right at Ardyn’s middle. Then Ardyn vanished— laughter echoing around Noctis like a sick symphony. Noctis’ sword pierced a tree trunk before it snapped back to his palm. _“Where!?”_

“I wonder what you’ll think when you see your _darling_ twosome again.” Ardyn walked around his chair, leisurely flicking off his hat to set it down on the hood. “You may not even recognize them.” He folded his elbows and leaned over the hood. _So casually_. “What great tragedy.” 

“What did you do to them?” Noctis held himself back—dead heart thumping in his chest and atrophied veins throbbing in his neck. 

Ardyn placed his cheek in his palm, “I took _your things_ and I made them mine.”

Noctis felt ugly tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. His voice bellowed up out of his lungs tinged with desperation: “Why?”

Ardyn laughed at him again, “You could ask your lineage’s founder, Noct, but alas, he’s long since passed,” Ardyn tapped a finger to his cheek, “We'll just suffice to say I require you for a small favor.”

“What?”

“Oh it’s too soon to disclose that; but if I were you, I’d head to Lestallum. With luck you might just make it before dawn.” Ardyn disappeared into a shadow once more.

Noctis slammed a closed fist against the hood of the car. _He thought of the other vampires who’d mastered shifting, warping longer distances, whatever. All the stupid things he’d never wanted to bother with._

The keys to the car sat in the front seat. When Noctis pulled back onto the road he made sure to run over Ardyn’s ugly hat.

His fingers dug into the steering wheel. 

_He missed Gladio and Prompto and Ignis._

* * *

Noctis arrived in Lestallum just before dawn. He turned an eye to the horizon and frowned. _Damn it._ He hurried into a jog, stiff legs protesting the movement. His eyes scanned the streets for a motel.

Hideous light-up pink sign. It’d have to do. 

He looked over his shoulder— pure paranoia maybe— and saw a familiar figure carrying a plastic bag in hand.

Tousled tawny hair, coeurl print shirt rolled up to his elbows, and glasses resting atop his nose. 

“Iggy?!”

“Noct!” Ignis twisted to face him. 

Noctis felt like a stupid child again when he broke into a run. The early light of morning sizzled his skin and the smell of burning flesh reached him before the pain did. 

Noctis latched onto Ignis’ elbows before he pulled him into a tight hug. “Iggy,” his voice croaked.

Ignis peeled off his jacket and threw it up over Noctis’ head. Noct sunk into the warmth of the fabric and the familiar scent of Ignis’ cologne that clung to it. He couldn’t even protest Ignis breaking free of his hug.

“Come with me, Noct,” Ignis guided him up the steel staircase to the second to last doorway. Room 11. 

Like this, Noctis could really see him: Purpled bags lined Ignis’ eyes and his skin look sickly pale. “You Okay, Specs?”

“Quite,” Ignis placed his hand on the small of Noctis’ back and shepherded him into the room. Ignis looked out at the empty walkway, “Where’s Gladio?”

Noctis shook his head. “He went to Insomnia for Iris.” Ignis nodded sharply before he pressed the door close. 

“Noct!” Prompto’s head emerged from a cocoon on the bed. His face broke into a wide grin as he scrambled across the bedsheets.

Noctis all but threw himself down next to him. He wrestled Prompto into a hug, “What happened to you guys!?”

Prompto let out a squawk of breath as Noctis’ arms tightened on him, “Easy there, buddy!” Prompto pounded a fist jokingly against his shoulder as he let out a sharp laugh. 

“Noct,” Ignis’ fingers closed on his shoulder. Noctis forced himself up off of Prompto. He scooted back on the bed so he could really see the two of them.

Bloodshot eyes, disheveled clothing— his nose twitched at the heavy stench of bleach permeating through the room. “Why did you leave?”

Ignis’ mouth pulled into a frown, “I would never leave your side willing, Noct.” 

“It was Ardyn— Niflheim’s Chancellor,” Prompto blurted out, he got in closer to Noct. Both his hands closed over Noctis’ knees. “We had to go so he would leave you alone—”

A despondent laugh bubbled up from Noctis’ mouth: “He drove me around.”

Ignis blinked, a trembling hand readjusting his glasses, “What do you mean?”

“Like a chaperone,” Noctis bitterly shook his head, “He told me where to find you.”

Dawning horror bloomed across Ignis’ face, “Then you must leave, Noct.” 

“I’m not leaving you.”

“C’mon, Noct,” Prompto’s hands gave a squeeze to Noctis’ legs, “Don’t be so—”

“Drop it,” Noctis flopped onto his back, “It’s already morning. If you’re so set on it, the two of you can go.” 

Prompto’s face fell. He folded his arms across his chest, “About that, I’m a—” He forced his hand down and rolled a wristband off. _Two pinpoint marks._ Prompto’s voice wobbled, “A vampire. Surprise.” 

“What?” Noctis lurched back upright— strained to hear his heartbeat but only heard the steady thumping of Ignis’. Noctis looked to Ignis and only got a steely nod in confirmation. “Is that why you left?”

“No, not merely by itself,” Ignis knelt by the side of the bed. His hand crept up and his fingertips brushed along Noctis’ palm. Noctis interlocked their fingers together. 

“You’re _his_ thrall, aren’t you?” 

Ignis’ eyes clouded over and he gave a squeeze to Noctis’ hand, “Yes.”

“I can turn you back,” Noctis scooted over to the edge of the bed. 

“Noctis, it doesn’t work like that,” Ignis shook his head and reached up to place a hand on his cheek, “You know that.”

 _What was it again? Thralls with two masters went totally batshit, right? Or one of the bonds broke if one of the vampires was much weaker?_ Noctis had never given a shit because his will had been stronger than any other vampire’s he’d ever met. 

Noctis frowned, “Then I’ll turn you.” 

“Noct,” Ignis’ fingers traced underneath his eye, “It may not work. Even if it did, we’d have to kill more people to sustain the three of us.”

“I don’t eat that much.”

“That may be,” Ignis’ mouth pulled up into a tight smile, “But Prompto does and so would I.” He cleared his throat, “I’m not sure it’d even break Ardyn’s thrall.”

“What are you saying?” Noctis’ mouth twisted into a grimace, “You can’t enthrall other vampires.” 

Ignis’ eye flicked over toward Prompto, “I fear he may be able to.” 

Prompto reached out toward him and folded himself along Noctis’ back. His cold forehead pressed against the back of Noctis’ neck. Noctis settled back into the embrace, “What aren’t you telling me?” He could feel a nervous exhale of cool breath escaping from Prompto’s lips.

Ignis brushed the hair back off his forehead, “You aren’t safe with either of us, Noct.” His fingertips skimmed down along Noctis’ temple. He looked at him so adoringly that Noctis _cracked._

Noctis reached forward and twisted a hand up in the collar of Ignis’ shirt. He hauled him up onto the bed. Ignis followed him, moving to press half on top of Noctis. “I don’t care,” Noctis said and tugged him in close. Their foreheads pressed together and surrounded on either side they were all he could feel. He reached his other hand around to grip Prompto’s side. _He could hold on tight and never let go_. “I’m not losing you again.”

“Please, Noct.”

“I’m not going to.”

“Buddy,” Prompto’s words sounded damp and Noctis could feel his shaky breaths, “You gotta listen.” His fingers tightened on Noctis’ shirt.

“I won’t,” Noctis shook his head, “We’ll figure something out together.” 

Ignis exhaled sharply— _his breath smelt bittersweet like ebony and chocolate._ “I suppose we could try.” 

“Good.” Untangling himself from their embrace left Noctis with a sharp pang in his chest. He cleared his throat and looked up toward the corner of the room: “So what’d you two do together anyway?” _They hadn’t exactly been all that friendly before, had they?_ Noctis raked his mind and realized that wasn’t strictly true. _They both seemed to at least kinda like each other._

Prompto and Ignis looked at each other. Prompto scratched at the back of his neck, “Oh, not much— tried not to starve mostly.”

“I was worried you were going to say you hooked up or something,” Noctis flopped over onto his stomach and folded his arms under his head.

Ignis and Prompto shared another look— both their mouths drawing tight and faces looking awfully pained. “Oh no, we’d never,” Prompto’s rapid denial pitched up high, “Nope.”

Noctis’ eyebrows pinched together, “Wait.” He got up onto his hands and knees to shoot a pointed glance at the two of them. _The two of them who had instinctively pointed their bodies toward one another._

Ignis cleared his throat, “Yes, Noct?” He folded his hands on his lap like a picture of innocence.

“Did you?” Noct couldn’t help the entitled whine his voice slipped into. _His_ thrall, _his_ ~~human~~ friend. His upper lip curled up.

“Just hypothetically, If we did,” Prompto said with his voice lilting up higher and his hands waving to placate Noct, “Would you be super pissed about it?”

“You’re both mine.”

Prompto let out a panicked little laugh and gave a pat to his arm, “Pretty sure you can’t own people, Buddy.”

Noctis bit back his scandalized shock, “It’s like if your sofa fucked your armchair.” _Only your sofa looked great without a shirt and when your armchair blushed the tips of his ears turned cherry red._

Prompto blinked very slowly, “Wait— so are we furniture now?” 

Noctis rolled his eyes, the fire momentarily dissipating from his voice, “You know that’s not what I mean, Prom.” 

“Please try to stay calm, Noct,” Ignis reached out and pressed a hand to his shoulder, “This development doesn’t change how either of us feels about you—”

A brittle laugh escaped from Noctis’ mouth and he could feel the fire inside him flaring once more, “Why each other?” 

Ignis looked to Prompt and spoke slowly, “I believe we enjoy each other’s company— before and after we left together.” Prompto nodded along eagerly.

“And you don’t enjoy mine?!”

“We do!” Prompto bounced onto his haunches, “We do, Noct!” 

“Then why didn’t either of you ask me out?”

“We’re—” Prompto cut off his response to stare with stupefied shock, “What now?”

Ignis blinked slowly, “Is that something you would have wanted?”

“Sure,” Noctis crossed his arms, “Better than you boneing each other after abandoning me.”

Prompto let out a laugh that could’ve been confused for a wail, “Wait, Noct, are you jealous?”

Noctis growled. He lunged toward Prompto and pinned him down on the bed. Prompto let out a sharp yelp when Noctis’ fingers wrapped around his wrists. “You didn’t even ask me!” 

Ignis leaned over, fingertips gently stroking up the back of Noctis’ hand in an effort to soothe his rumbled feathers. “What if we asked you now?”

Noctis shook his head, curtain of dark hair falling across his forehead, “I’d say no.”

Prompto squirmed under the weight of Noctis’ body, “C’mon, dude.” With Prompto’s mouth pinched tightly closed and Ignis’ knowing eye boring into him, Noctis felt weak. 

Noctis breathed out a small whisper, _“I_ wanted you.”

Prompto blinked slowly, craning his neck up to look at Ignis. “Both of us?” They shared another one of their looks, getting all deep and lost inside each other’s eyes.

“Yes.”

“I mean, that’s totally alright,” Prompto cleared his throat and Noctis could feel his hips wiggle, “More than alright honestly.” 

“Certainly,” Ignis agreed.

So Noctis lurched forward and pressed his lips against Prompto. _Messy and hot._

Noctis’ teeth closed on Prompto’s lower lip and gave a small nip— just enough to draw blood. He tasted saccharine and bright. His fingers squeezed on Prompto’s wrists. Like this, they felt _so right._

Prompto moaned in his mouth and his hands flexed against Noctis’ hold. His head tipped to the side, a small gasp spilling from his mouth, “Noct!”

Noctis’ head dipped downward, fangs skirting along his collarbone until they found their way to his throat. Prompto let out a desperate noise when Noctis bit down. _He tasted just like a dream— one Noctis loathed to wake from_. Noctis tightened his grip and pressed a kiss to his throat. 

“You taste good,” Noctis smiled with blood tinted fangs, “ _For a vampire_.”

Prompto struggled to try and sit up. His voice left in a desperate keen, “Do I?”

Ignis moved in closer— his eyes dark with interest but stance kept cautious. _Wouldn’t want to interrupt a vampire while feeding_. Those pesky primal instincts. Noctis licked his lips— the metallic tang of blood flooded his mouth again. 

Ignis’ throat bobbed on a dry swallow. The veins in his neck throbbed and Noctis could _feel_ his pulse quickening. 

Noctis surged upward, hand reaching out to thread through Ignis’ hair. He tugged him in close, Ignis letting out a tiny grunt in protest and his glasses slipping down his nose. 

Noctis settled all his weight down on Prompto, other palm moving to plant square on his chest. Prompto let out a broken little gasp when his back smacked down on the mattress. Noctis eased Ignis in close, so close that he could almost taste him already. _Ebony and chocolate. Deep and rich._

Their mouths locked together and Noctis felt like he’d come home. Bracketed by the scent of his cologne, the familiar sound of his heartbeat. His fingers tightened on Prompto’s well-worn shirt. _He wanted this so badly_. 

“You taste like blood,” Ignis pulled back with a wry frown playing at the corners of his mouth.

Noctis laughed, pressing their foreheads against each other. Prompto piped up then, muscles in his arms straining to try and prop himself up again, “It’s an acquired taste, Iggy.” 

“Ah,” Ignis clicked his tongue with a close-lipped, secretive smile on his mouth. Noctis brushed a chaste kiss to his lips.

Prompto clapped a hand against Ignis’ knee, “C’mon you gotta get him off me, Iggy”.” He pointed a finger up at Noctis, “Dude weighs a ton.”

Noctis fisted his shirt and pulled Prompto up into a sitting position. Like this, with Noctis straddling Prompto’s hips and Ignis’ knees pressing against his calf, Noctis could imagine all their edges blurring until they became something else. _Something together_. 

“You two gonna kiss for me?” Noctis gave a tug to Ignis’ hair. 

Prompto blinked, “Uh, you want us to?” Luckily Ignis cut him off by pulling him into a kiss. The angle had to be awkward, with Ignis leaning over and twisting his head—Prompto’s neck straining to meet him. _They looked good together though: all strong wiry muscles and eyes blow wide with lust._

Noctis nuzzled his face in close to Ignis’ neck— warm, throbbing veins so close. The flat of Noctis’ tongue dragged across his throat and left him shivering. Noctis breathed out a sigh, “Can I?”

Ignis’ lips momentarily pulled away from Prompto’s. “Go ahead,” His assent rumbled deep in his chest and an indulgent smile flashed across his mouth.

Noctis’ fangs _ached_ when they sunk into soft flesh. Ignis felt so alive and warm— _like home,_ his mind reminded him. The heady taste of blood filled his mouth and Noctis could feel his pupils dilating into twin pools of darkness. 

Noctis drew back— watching the twin rivets of blood drip down his neck. The blood nestled along Ignis’ clavicle and stained his shirt. Noctis leaned forward and sucked a bruising kiss against the bite mark.

Ignis groaned out a single word: “Noct.” And for a moment, he felt lost. All he could taste was _Ignis_ , and he could only feel the firm weight of Prompto’s hips underneath him.

A line of blood escaped down Noctis’ chin. Prompto lurched forward, tongue flicking out to press against Noctis’ jawline. Noctis trembled, a hand knotting up in Prompto’s hair to hold him close. Prompto mouthed up at the line of blood and Noctis could feel his grin against his cheek. Noctis raised his eyebrow, “What are you doing?” _He didn’t say how good Prompto’s skin felt against his or how he smelt like honey this close._

“Hey! Sharing is caring, dude,” Prompto’s voice drew into a whisper as the flat of his tongue licked up the last traces of blood clinging to Noctis’ lower lip. He drew back with a wide smile— _showing off his teeth._

Noctis rolled his eyes, “Whatever.”

Tangled up together in a knot, Noctis wondered if he could forget everything that happened.

* * *

Noctis gripped the neck of his t-shirt, hefting the fabric up over his head. He tossed it off the bed, getting up on his knees. Prompto draped himself over his back while Ignis sidled in toward his front. 

Ignis cradled Noctis’ cheek in a palm— shirt unbuttoned and billowing around his torso. _Noctis could just imagine what his heart looked like beating._

Prompto’s lips seared a line of open-mouthed kisses along Noctis’ back. Flat of his tongue dragging along the dip of Noctis’ spine. Prompto’s fingertips danced over white, mottled scar tissue: “Didn’t know vampires could scar— thought you guys healed from everything.”

Noctis rolled his eyes: “Not everything.” _He could still remember what the silver sharpanel felt like digging into the skin of his back_ : A terrible, aching burn that spread throughout his entire body and left him unable to walk for months. 

“Just most things, huh?” He could feel the tips of Prompto’s hair tickling against his skin. 

Ignis pressed a kiss along his jawline before slipping down to the crook of his neck— blunt teeth applying the slightest pressure. Noctis could feel his close-lipped smile. 

“Do you think Ardyn knows?” Prompto’s chin hooked over Noctis’ other shoulder and his arms loosely wrapped around his middle, “About this?”

“Way to kill a mood,” Noctis gave a pinch to his bare thigh which had Prompto yelping. 

“Sorry!” Prompto pecked a kiss against the side of Noctis’ neck. “But seriously though— do you think he does?”

“Perhaps,” Ignis’ voice rumbled deep in his throat. 

“Then let’s give that sad, old man a show.”

Prompto barked out a sharp, desperate laugh: “Noct, buddy, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Noctis glanced over at Prompto and raised his eyebrows, “Well then he can choose not to watch.”

* * *

Afterward, laying in a mess of sweaty limbs and tangled together, Noctis felt a sudden weight in his chest. Like his heart could be split into a million pieces.

“What if we ran?” Noctis stared up at the craggily white specks on the ceiling. Ignis’ shoulder pillowed underneath his head and Prompto’s chin balanced on his chest.

Ignis’ fingers carded through his hair— gently trying to untangle sweat-matted strands. “Noct,” His voice came out strained. Noctis glanced up to see his mouth pulled into a terse line, “You’re the chosen.”

“So?” Noctis averted his eyes back to the ceiling. 

Prompto’s fingers tapped a little pattern against his clavicle, “Aren’t you supposed to bring about eternal night or something?” 

“Yeah, lucky me,” Noctis rolled his eyes. He gave a tiny flick to Prompto’s shoulder. 

Ignis’ frown deepened, “Noct.”

“You’re sounding a lot like Gladio,” Noctis turned an unimpressed stare back up to Ignis. _His destiny._ What a load of bullshit. 

Ignis’ breath escaped in a stiff exhale, “Regardless, we still have one very large problem to address.”

Prompto nodded solemnly, “Ardyn.”

Noctis didn’t waste a beat before he said, “I’ll kill him.” He could imagine how his blackened, ancient blood would taste in his mouth. _He could do it._

“If only we had the big guy,” Prompto mused with his lower lip pulling into his mouth.

Noctis shook his head, “I can do it.” _Bitterness flooded his mouth when he remembered Gladio chose to leave._ In the back of his mind, a thought pulled at him: _at least now Gladio would stay safe_. It felt like a cold comfort.

“What if Prompto or I try to stop you?” Ignis shook his head, “If we hope to beat him we mustn’t rely on brute strength alone.”

“You got a plan?” Prompto clamored up to stare at Ignis, “Cause that sounds like you got a plan.” 

Ignis fished his glasses off the bedside table. He cleared his throat, “Of sorts.” He untangled himself from Noctis and sat up against the headboard.

“Well c’mon then,” Noctis followed him up, moving to rest on his haunches, “What is it?”

“Daylight,” Ignis nodded to himself, “We lure him to us. We know he must be a very old vampire, accordingly,” He frowned, “He should be more sensitive than either of you.”

“Wait, what? We’re gonna have to jump in the easy bake oven too?” Prompto wiggled a finger between himself and Noctis.

Ignis nodded, “Yes, most likely.” He steepled his fingers together.

“Fine,” Noctis said. _If they could do it, nothing else would matter. They could move into a shitty little house on the coast together and not have to worry about anyone but themselves._ He wanted so badly his dead heart ached.


	6. The King of Light

“We should have a few hours until nightfall,” Ignis cleared his throat, “With any luck, Ardyn will come tonight.”

“Uh,” Prompto raises up a hand, “What if he doesn’t?”

Ignis shrugged up a shoulder, “We wait. The ball is currently in his corner so to speak. No matter what happens, we must stay with him until daylight.”

“I don’t wanna be a party pooper, but guys,” Prompto scratched at his cheek, “You really think he'll just stand there so we can pop open a window?”

“No, but he can’t be in three places at once,” Ignis shook his head, “You’ll both distract him.” 

“Iggy,” Noctis dropped his cheek into his palm, “You’re sure you don’t want me to turn you?” 

Prompto laughed, “Considering we’re launching ourselves straight outta the frying pan, Noct, can’t blame Iggy for—”

Ignis stopped him with a gently raised hand. “It might be our best bet.” He fiddled with his glasses, “If I’m still his thrall, he may be able to compel me. Should Noct turn me, Ardyn’s thrall may be broken, however I will also be directly at risk from the daylight.”

“I don’t know, Igs,” Prompto chewed on his lower lip.

“There isn’t a good option.” Ignis sighed. “Younger vampires are more resistant to sunlight, freshly turned, I shouldn’t be in too terribly great of danger.”

“No more than either of us,” Noctis agreed. 

“Precisely,” Ignis nodded, “Should Ardyn try and compel _you_ , Prompto, Noct or I will be able to stop you.” 

“Here’s hoping Ardyn will burst into a crisp at the first sign of light,” Prompto offered up with a half-hearted smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And that we can close the curtains real quick after.”

“Quit worrying,” Noctis gave a small shove to his shoulder.

* * *

Less than an hour before sunset. Ignis felt Noctis’ hand cradling the back of his head. Ignis winced at the sharp sting of fangs biting into his neck.

He lifted up a hand weakly— vision wobbling and body protesting the movement. He could feel his heart rate slowing down and the drip of blood falling to the floor.

Noctis’ solid arms around him afforded a small comfort to the situation. “You gotta drink.” Ignis barely realized when Noctis shoved his wrist toward his mouth.

The metallic stench of blood reached his nose, only just able to feel it slide against his tongue, when the motel door blew open. 

In an instant it had closed, trapping the last dying embers of light back outdoors. Prompto lurched out of the bathroom in a panic.

“Where’d you come from!?” Prompto’s voice rose up high as he tripped backward. He landed on his ass with a smack.

“The room over— just a short hop and skip away.” Ardyn replied. “I’m afraid I couldn’t let this particular turn of events unfold,” he gestured to where Noctis knelt over Ignis, “I’m sure you understand.” He dusted off his sleeves— _Ignis wondered if he’d started to char from what must have been a very short distance._ He hoped so.

Noctis got up to his feet, shielding Ignis’ prone form from Ardyn’s gaze. He wiped the blood off his chin onto the hem of his shirt. He turned a shiteating grin onto Ardyn, “Nice hat,” He warped forward directly in front of him. 

“Ah, this old thing?” Ardyn pretended to preen— staring to the side to watch Ignis continuing to bleed out on the floor.

Noctis sidestepped in a blue blur. He twirled Ardyn’s hat between his fingers before placing it atop his head. “How do I look?”

Disoriented from blood loss, Ignis staggered up to his feet. His vision swam at the movement. _Black spots dancing all around him_. Ardyn turned a sneer to Noctis, “Oh, it certainly suits you, Highness.”

Noct grinned with blood soaked fangs, “Maybe I’ll just keep it then.”

Prompto crawled over to Ignis, getting up to wind an arm around his back. Unfortunately, the move drew Ardyn’s attention. “Well, _Noct_ , that little souvenir does seem liable to outlast your dear Ignis.”

Ignis only saw a flurry of movement. Then he heard the sick snap of a neck jerked to the side. He watched Noctis crumble to the ground—back connecting hard with the chair and sending it splintering into chunks of fabric and wood.

“Stop him,” Ignis breathed against Prompto’s ear. Ardyn advanced on them with a spring in his step.  
Prompto nodded. He gave a shove to Ignis’ back—  
Ignis landed hard on his knees, but the movement got him closer to the window. 

Prompto held his palms up in a parody of surrender, “Can’t we talk about this, Ardyn?”

“I’m not quite sure, Prompto,” Ardyn replied with a small laugh, “Do you suppose we can?” He sauntered on forward, barely sparing a backwards glance to Ignis.

Prompto took a step back, “What do you want?”

Ignis’ fingers closed on the heavy fabric of the curtains. “Oh, dear boy, there’s only one thing I truly desire—” Ignis tugged and sunlight spilled across the floor.

Noctis’ skin bubbled up— Prompto jolting to launch himself on top of him. He let out a cry at the blisters that formed across the exposed skin of neck.

Ignis’ eyes _burned—_ he didn’t think he’d had nearly enough of Noctis’ blood to actually transform. He blinked past spots to see Ardyn standing unbothered. 

“There’s an old tale of Somnus— that he asked Shiva to give him the power to conceive an heir. And Shiva, ever indulgent of vampires, granted his wish. Thus the purebred vampires of the Lucis Caelum line were born. Continuing on for generations until your dear Noct.” Ardyn gestured haphazardly to where Noctis writhed on the floor.

Ardyn tsked his tongue, “But Shiva’s gift didn’t go unnoticed. Ifrit, jealous of his wife’s attention on another, bestowed his own gift to _his_ chosen: a cloak of fire. And so, a vampire set to be executed at dawn found himself impervious to sunlight. This was a man of no apparent consequence— appearing in nary any other tales but this....”

“...But, that is how Somnus would have history decreed,” Ardyn rucked up his sleeve and extended his arm into the sunlight being cast into the room. Ignis expected a mass of angry, red welts and burns to explode across his skin— or for him to shrivel up into ash. 

Instead, Ardyn’s flesh remained unchanged as he took a step forward fully into the light. “Ardyn Lucis Caelum was my given name.” 

Ignis stumbled forward with his hand clawing at the curtain: “ _You’re_ the Founder King?”

“No, that honor remains my brother’s,” Ardyn bit out, “Though it hardly did him any good,” Ardyn flicked a stray piece of lint off of his jacket sleeve, “After all, he burnt to a crisp— ah, but did you know, when Noct was barely a twinkle in the eye of his forefather, the Six had another chosen in mind?” 

Ignis barely managed to pull the curtain partly closed— _just enough to get the light off Noctis and Prompto_. They stayed huddled together in a pile of charred and blistered flesh. Ignis thought he could hear a soft whimper from Prompto.

Ardyn gestured toward himself with an acrid laugh, “You’ll never guess who that was.” He spared glance down to them, “Oh yes, you’re quite fortunate, Prompto,” Ardyn continued, “You have found yourself sired into royalty.” The toe of his boot nudged Prompto’s shoulder, “Although, you won’t reap any of the benefits.” 

Ignis stumbled forward, knees hitting the ground hard. His fingers closed on a splinter of wood from the broken chair, pulling it tightly against his thigh. He spared a look at Noctis and Prompto. _They’d be alright. He’d make sure of it._

Ardyn backed up with a laugh toward the partly opened window, his arms outstretched as the light shone around him like a halo. 

Ignis tightened his grip on the makeshift stake. His face drew into a mask of grim determination. “I’d think twice about that if I were you,” Ardyn offered as his only response.

Ignis lunged toward him all the same. Ardyn moved so fast— like a blur in the corner of his eye. 

The sudden sunlight bit at Ignis’ eyes. He squeezed them close— could feel the skin of his face starting to burn. He twisted around to the sound of Ardyn’s laughing.

Ignis felt the wood dig into the meat of Ardyn’s shoulder— he twisted and twisted while blackened blood pooled out. Ardyn’s hand closed on his throat. 

Ignis choked out a sharp breath, numb fingers clamoring against Ardyn’s wrist. “In the midst of transformation,” Ardyn spoke like he hadn’t even broken a sweat, “Ah, it certainly is a rather vulnerable time, my boy.” 

Ardyn twisted him around, arm coming to loop around Ignis’ front. The light seared against his face once more. Ignis struggled in his grip. His vision flickered, pools of darkness swarming the edges. Ignis blinked rapidly against the pain.

He heard the hoarse shout before he realized it’d come from himself. Ardyn spoke softly in his ear, “Did you think Noct turning you would be your salvation?” Ardyn laughed at him, “Rest assured, Ignis, for it would have mattered naught.” 

“Iggy!” Ignis heard Prompto’s cry then felt Ardyn being wretched away from him— Prompto had latched onto his arm before tumbling down to the ground. 

Ignis collapsed to his knees. He blinked past spots, looking at his hands as his vision _melted_. He staggered out of the warm light, moving until his back touched the wall. “I can’t see.”

Prompto skidded across the floor to him, hands gripping the sides of his face, “You’re gonna be okay.” His thumbs stroked circles against the damaged skin under Ignis’ eyes. 

From the dark prison surrounding him, Ignis could only hear Ardyn’s footsteps and laughter. Prompto’s hands pulled him forward before a wrist shoved against Ignis’ mouth. _Smelt undoubtedly like a slightly burnt version of Prompto._

Ignis shook his head, “You have to help Noct.”

Prompto ignored him, pressing his wrist to him more insistently. Ignis could hear Ardyn’s heavy footfalls moving toward where he believed Noct laid. His fear confirmed when Prompto shouted, “Stop it! What are you doing?!”

“What’s happening?” Ignis asked desperately with his fingers latching onto Prompto’s forearm.

“Right now, Ignis, I’m holding a stake above the heart of your dearest Prince,” Ardyn replied— Ignis could hear the condescending grin coloring his words.

“What do you want!?” Prompto begged— Ignis felt blood dribbling against his lips. He couldn’t resist biting down then.

 _“I_ merely desire for Noct to bring about the endless night, annihilate the entire human and vampire races, etcetera,” Ardyn replied mildly.

Prompto’s voice pitched up, “Maybe we can help with that!”

“However so, my dear boy?”

“Before you said— uh, that _company wouldn’t be remiss_ or whatever—”

Ignis’ darkened vision rocked— like being out at sea in the dead of night. He slumped over, fingers grappling for purchase. “Don’t,” he tried to warn Prompto before his body gave out.

* * *

Noctis woke with his forehead pressed to the cold glass of a window. The rumbling of an engine rattled in his ears. His body ached and he longed to close his eyes and sink back into sleep once more.

He sniffed— able to smell the citrus and sandalwood of Prompto’s shampoo. He looked to see Prompto’s head resting on his shoulder. A line of drool slipped down his chin. Other than a few blisters and bruises _he looked good_. Sated for the moment, Noctis really did think he could go back to sleep.

Then the car stopped. “Ah, what a wonderful feeling to hunt as a proper clan,” Ardyn twisted around in the driver’s seat to shoot a self-satisfied grin toward him. 

Noctis’ tongue felt heavy in his mouth, “We’re not.” His eyelids drooped close. Exhaustion pulled at him and he couldn’t muster the energy to fight it.

He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he woke up again. The car was still, but it certainly wasn’t silent.

“Unhand me!” Ignis shrugged off Ardyn’s hands. His knees nearly gave out before he gripped the hood of the car. Dried blood darkened his shirt and crusted off his mouth.

Noctis wanted to cry, for his skin had a healthy, bright pallor. _Like a vampire who’d recently fed_. He strained his ears, further pleased when he realized they’d been successful in turning him.

Noctis kept his head down low to avoid jostling Prompto— who still laid on his shoulder.

Then he noticed the heavy scars along Ignis’ face; already turned pink and starting to heal— _but where were his glasses—_ and then Noctis couldn’t escape looking at the milky tinge of his eyes. “Oh, come now, Ignis,” Ardyn clicked his tongue as though he addressed a disobedient child. “You wouldn’t want to bumble off the road, now would you?”

“Be quiet!” Ardyn laughed and pushed Ignis’ limp bangs up off his forehead. Ignis smacked his hand away, “Whatever you’re planning, we will stop you.” 

“But of course,” Ardyn’s voice pitched into a condescending whisper as his arm wound itself along the small of Ignis’ back. “Now do be a dear and come along.”

Ignis allowed himself to be guided and pushed into the backseat of the car. It was a bit of a squeeze with all three of them in the back. 

“Finally awake, _Highness_?” With little use to continue pretending, Noctis sat up. 

He glowered toward Ardyn, “Obviously.” 

“I’m sure you’ll be quite pleased to know I kept your retainers intact for you,” A grin played at the edges of his mouth, “ _Well_ mostly intact, some things simply can’t be helped.” 

“Fuck you,” Noctis spit out.

Ardyn laughed and raised up his hands, “Oh, easy there, Noct.” 

“What do you want?” Ignis asked and Noctis could see the fight draining from his shoulders.

Ardyn shushed them with another condescending smile, “Ah, now we’d best stop with the chitchat for the moment— wouldn’t want to wake your dear Prompto, now would we?” He reached over Ignis’ lap and gave a pat to the top of Prompto’s head.

Ardyn ambled into the driver’s seat and turned the car on with a twist of the key. Noctis wanted to stay awake, but once more the claws of sleep dug into his consciousness. It felt too easy to slip back under.

* * *

Noctis woke to the smell of brine on the cool night air. He sat up in bed, the window in the austere room slightly ajar.

 _How had he gotten here?_ Ignis couldn’t have carried him, _not since he’d been blinded_ , and Prompto would’ve had to drag him in— Noctis’ skin crawled at the realization.

He slipped out of bed and padded across the floor on bare feet. He quietly left the room and headed down the hallway. _Completely empty_. Then he heard the quiet murmur of voices. 

He headed outside the opened door into the cool night air. The waves lapped up against the rocky cliffside.

“Noct?” Ignis inclined his head slightly toward him— eyes now shrouded behind a pair of dark glasses.

Noctis frowned, “It’s me.” He took in the sight of them: Prompto and Ignis sitting at a table _with Ardyn_. “What’s going on?” 

“Discussing terms,” Between Ardyn’s thumb and forefinger sat the ring of Lucis. Noctis felt his chest clench. 

“You can keep it.”

“Oh, but Noct, it would hardly do _me_ any good,” Ardyn threw the ring up in the air. He caught it in a closed fist, “Why don’t you put it on and embrace your destiny?” 

“Go to hell.”

“But it’s the gift of your _sacred_ lineage— what would the Six and your ancestors think if you rejected such a thing?” Ardyn opened up his palm and held the ring out toward Noctis.

Prompto strained to look at him— face drawn and tight. His teeth bit down on his lower lip. Noctis plucked the ring out of Ardyn’s hand.

He could almost _hear_ the voices of those ancestors whispering to him. Noctis looked at Ardyn closely, “Why?”

“You’ll put it on and then go find your crystal,” Ardyn spoke as though he were being exceedingly patient, “Become the chosen foretold by the Six.”

“To usher the world into darkness?” Noctis scoffed out a breath and cradled the ring against his chest. 

He heaved the ring up and tossed it right off the cliff. _If he heard the screams of his lineage drowning he didn’t react to it._

“Noct!” Prompto’s chair tumbled over as he rushed up to his feet. Ignis hand on his wrist slowed him. “He just threw the ring _off the cliff,_ ” Prompto hastily spoke. 

Ardyn let out a bellowing laugh. “So that is how you’d end it? Rejecting your prothesized legacy?” 

“I don’t need it.”

Ardyn pretended to wipe a tear from the corner of his eye, “And to what end, Noct?”

“I don’t want their gifts.” Noctis twisted on his heel and headed back toward the house, “I’m not their chosen.”

Before he could reach the door, a mass of shadow intersected him. The face smiled with purpled glass shards for teeth before Ardyn’s visage reformed. “Did your darling twosome get the chance to tell you, Noct? Before _you_ the Six selected another champion?” 

Noctis’ eyes widened, teeth barring in a grimace. He felt something ice cold pulsing in his veins and the sour taste of fear flooding his mouth. 

He barely got his forearm up in time to deflect the clawed hand threatening to tear into him. In a grapple if fangs and teeth, he could feel his body giving out.

He could hear Ignis’ sharp intake of breath through the rushing in his ears, Prompto’s cry as he lurched toward him: “Noct!”

“Stay out of this!” Noctis screamed toward them. From the corner of his eye he saw Ignis’ hand tighten on Prompto’s wrist. _Holding him back._ Noctis ignored the quivering frown on Ignis’ face.

He tried to wrench Ardyn off, but strong fingertips dug into the meat of his shoulders. A hoarse cry slipped from his mouth as he fell back into the dirt. He wedged a knee up between their bodies, heel of his foot connecting with Ardyn’s stomach.

Ardyn _melted_ off him into a sea of shadows and sparks. Noctis scrambled up only for a boot to plant square on his chest. The back of his head connected against the ground with a sickening thump.

Ardyn leered down at him with glowing eyes and teeth like a thousand knives: “Would you fancy me letting your friends join in the fray, Noct!” He waved a hand to where Ignis and Prompto stayed: _fucking tears streaming down Prompto’s cheeks and Ignis’ shoulders shaking with his face held in a stoic mask_.

“I don’t want this!” Noctis dug his fingers into Ardyn’s leather-clad ankles. “ _None of it!_ My Ancestors! The Six!” 

Suddenly all the fight drained from Ardyn’s shoulders, he clicked his tongue: “Oh, I suppose that’s the true heart of the matter, isn’t it, my boy?” He removed his foot and looked over to the cliff with a sneer, “Destiny intervening against our wishes, hm?”

Noctis staggered up to his feet, “I’m not their chosen.” He shoved his hands into his pockets, “Just let me be nobody.”

Ardyn laughed at him: “Oh, but, Noct, that’s not quite true! You’re certainly someone to me.” He turned to level a smirk toward him. _All rough edges and meanness._

“Fine,” Noctis shook his head. “I don’t care— I’ll be that.” _So long as he didn’t string Ignis and Promoto up on a line like stuck fish._

“Whatever you want, Ardyn!” Prompto’s voice came out watery and drenched with despair, “ _Whatever_!” Next to him, Ignis’ hand fell limply onto his lap.

Ardyn gave them all a considering once-over before he started to laugh again. But his body slid back into a facsimile of harmlessness, no longer ready to strike at any moment. Noctis stumbled toward the doorway, fingers digging into wood. _Whatever it took, the three of them could be safe, they could distract Ardyn, save the world as they knew it—_

Noctis looked over his shoulder to where Ignis sat with fists clenched against his thighs, where Prompto reached out toward him with a trembling hand, and where Ardyn continued laughing.

He looked further, able to imagine the ring sinking down to the depths of the ocean. His fingers squeezed together in a paper-white fist and the burning of tears licked at the corners of his eyes.

Noctis couldn’t fight off the bitter laugh that rushed out of his lungs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you want to think Ignis/Noctis/Prompto manage to defeat Ardyn and get away, that’s totally an option (and I hope you enjoyed this first part!) 
> 
> On the other hand, if you wanna see Ardyn with a stockholmed vampire scourge harem, that’s part 2


End file.
